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 Qatar and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Slackers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Magma,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monks,
Andrew Hill,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Erasure,
Minor Threat,
Tomorrow,
The Slits,
Liliput,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boredoms,
John Coltrane,
June Days,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deadbeat,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare,
Blancmange,
The Pretty Things,
Bill Wells,
Country Teasers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
K-Klass,
Can,
UT,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Connie Case,
Todd Rundgren,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fluxion,
Electric Prunes,
Jacques Brel,
Motorama,
Half Japanese,
X-Ray Spex,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cure,
The Gories,
Malaria!,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Swans,
The Trojans,
Slave,
Barbara Tucker,
Wally Richardson,
the Germs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The J.B.'s,
Donald Byrd,
The Evens,
Flash Fearless,
The Skatalites,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crime,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yusef Lateef,
Steve Hackett,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.