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 Bahrain and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Tremeloes to the rock 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Blossom Toes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Todd Terry,
Yaz,
Technova,
Alice Coltrane,
In Retrospect,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pere Ubu,
Skaos,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Deepchord,
Porter Ricks,
Accadde A,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang of Four,
Whodini,
Don Cherry,
Black Moon,
Absolute Body Control,
Sarah Menescal,
Infiniti,
Jimmy McGriff,
Glenn Branca,
Cybotron,
Amazonics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pierre Henry,
Brothers Johnson,
Slick Rick,
Scott Walker,
Yazoo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Funkadelic,
Roger Hodgson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barbara Tucker,
Susan Cadogan,
Fatback Band,
Japan,
Blake Baxter,
The Saints,
The Angels of Light,
Althea and Donna,
Magma,
Public Enemy,
The Dirtbombs,
Television,
Jerry's Kids,
Suicide,
Mad Mike,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kenny Larkin,
Ken Boothe,
Amon Düül,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dead Boys,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.