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 Saudi Arabia and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 MDC to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Amon Düül,
Duran Duran,
Albert Ayler,
Arab on Radar,
Max Romeo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Dead C,
Isaac Hayes,
Deadbeat,
The Fortunes,
Funkadelic,
The Human League,
Index,
Hot Snakes,
Malaria!,
Don Cherry,
Sixth Finger,
The Gories,
Morten Harket,
The Walker Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jacob Miller,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fear,
Anakelly,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Country Teasers,
Los Fastidios,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Pop Group,
Juan Atkins,
Danielle Patucci,
Al Stewart,
Pussy Galore,
Loose Ends,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Mojo Men,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare,
The Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Reuben Wilson,
Ornette Coleman,
The Doors,
Mark Hollis,
The Invisible,
The Index,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Reagan Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Adolescents,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.