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 Nepal and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Associates to the jazz 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Byrd,
Yazoo,
John Foxx,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mr. Review,
L. Decosne,
Moby Grape,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ken Boothe,
Country Teasers,
Delta 5,
Icehouse,
Marvin Gaye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dark Day,
Y Pants,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mark Hollis,
Main Source,
Donny Hathaway,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sixth Finger,
Echospace,
One Last Wish,
Guru Guru,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Zapp,
The Smiths,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Au Pairs,
Negative Approach,
The Blues Magoos,
Susan Cadogan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Motorama,
Supertramp,
Colin Newman,
Byron Stingily,
Grey Daturas,
The Real Kids,
10cc,
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Kinks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Steve Hackett,
Faust,
Slave,
Gil Scott Heron,
Skriet,
Agitation Free,
Tom Boy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
CMW,
Robert Wyatt,
Aaron Thompson,
cv313,
Buzzcocks,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.