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 Macedonia and from New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Michelle Simonal to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Icehouse,
Minny Pops,
Soul II Soul,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gastr Del Sol,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Moody Blues,
Morten Harket,
The Offenders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sonic Youth,
KRS-One,
Severed Heads,
The Standells,
Lucky Dragons,
L. Decosne,
The Fuzztones,
The Electric Prunes,
Index,
Lungfish,
Sandy B,
The Skatalites,
Neu!,
Ludus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Niagra,
Ornette Coleman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scientists,
Yazoo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fad Gadget,
The Star Department,
Scott Walker,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pere Ubu,
Tomorrow,
the Human League,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bronski Beat,
Rotary Connection,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Bar-Kays,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Infiniti,
Monks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gang of Four,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Josef K,
Pole,
Yellowson,
The Velvet Underground,
Michelle Simonal,
Anakelly,
The Moleskins,
Average White Band,
Nirvana,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.