Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kiribati and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ken Boothe to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kenny Larkin,
Goldenarms,
World's Most,
Kas Product,
L. Decosne,
Rekid,
Eric Copeland,
Tomorrow,
Ornette Coleman,
Surgeon,
Jacob Miller,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kaleidoscope,
James White and The Blacks,
Isaac Hayes,
Robert Wyatt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scratch Acid,
Altered Images,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tears for Fears,
David McCallum,
Loose Ends,
The Black Dice,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jawbox,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tim Buckley,
The Wake,
Section 25,
Amon Düül,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Procol Harum,
Boredoms,
Peter & Gordon,
Television,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun City Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Names,
Laurel Aitken,
Stockholm Monsters,
Steve Hackett,
These Immortal Souls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Youth Brigade,
Warren Ellis,
The Litter,
Fear,
Dark Day,
Idris Muhammad,
the Bar-Kays,
PIL,
Jerry's Kids,
Young Marble Giants,
Wire,
Pantaleimon,
June Days,
Bob Dylan,
Warsaw,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.