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 Zimbabwe and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 FM Einheit to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Minnie Riperton,
Susan Cadogan,
Basic Channel,
Warsaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oneida,
Ten City,
Pagans,
Josef K,
Chrome,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Echospace,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joensuu 1685,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sex Pistols,
Donny Hathaway,
Gong,
Ice-T,
Kayak,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mission of Burma,
The Victims,
Cymande,
The Cowsills,
Soul Sonic Force,
La Düsseldorf,
Todd Rundgren,
Al Stewart,
The Dirtbombs,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fortunes,
Half Japanese,
Von Mondo,
The Kinks,
Aloha Tigers,
Alton Ellis,
Mars,
The Wake,
Adolescents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Donald Byrd,
Trumans Water,
Judy Mowatt,
Nirvana,
Eve St. Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
UT,
Maurizio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marine Girls,
Roxette,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bob Dylan,
These Immortal Souls,
Clear Light,
Arab on Radar,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lucky Dragons,
The Invisible,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.