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 Angola and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Bobby Sherman to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Parry Music,
10cc,
James White and The Blacks,
Wings,
the Slits,
Amazonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tubeway Army,
The Grass Roots,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Young Rascals,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
Derrick May,
Agent Orange,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Slackers,
The Mummies,
Arcadia,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Faust,
Livin' Joy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Siglo XX,
Quantec,
Cluster,
Cal Tjader,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
Lucky Dragons,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Idris Muhammad,
Rhythm & Sound,
Warsaw,
Mantronix,
Dark Day,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric Dolphy,
The Cowsills,
The J.B.'s,
The Star Department,
Harmonia,
David Axelrod,
The Selecter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Television,
Iggy Pop,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Juan Atkins,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.