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 Comoros 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 Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Cale to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Tomorrow,
Joey Negro,
Neu!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Liliput,
John Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
Duran Duran,
Pussy Galore,
The Knickerbockers,
Half Japanese,
Black Flag,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Qualms,
Camberwell Now,
Marine Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Alice Coltrane,
Eli Mardock,
L. Decosne,
Cecil Taylor,
Tears for Fears,
Rekid,
The Move,
Bad Manners,
Make Up,
Aloha Tigers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tom Boy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Arcadia,
The Motions,
Popol Vuh,
Fad Gadget,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Robert Wyatt,
Loose Ends,
Deadbeat,
Stereo Dub,
Bobby Byrd,
Gerry Rafferty,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ronnie Foster,
Maurizio,
Swell Maps,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Techniques,
The Vogues,
Arthur Verocai,
Brothers Johnson,
Fluxion,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Khruangbin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Los Fastidios,
Alton Ellis,
UT,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.