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 Dominica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes 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 Letta Mbulu to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Y Pants,
Darondo,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Sherman,
Henry Cow,
June Days,
Stereo Dub,
Radiohead,
John Lydon,
Blake Baxter,
Arab on Radar,
Marine Girls,
The Invisible,
Vladislav Delay,
Siglo XX,
Television Personalities,
Sixth Finger,
Model 500,
The Neon Judgement,
Television,
Davy DMX,
Nils Olav,
Cheater Slicks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
ABC,
Tears for Fears,
Aloha Tigers,
Smog,
Con Funk Shun,
The Residents,
Gichy Dan,
Simply Red,
Urselle,
Depeche Mode,
Ohio Players,
Morten Harket,
The Red Krayola,
Sonic Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Neu!,
OOIOO,
Man Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
Gang of Four,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joey Negro,
Amon Düül,
Zapp,
Nirvana,
CMW,
Schoolly D,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Procol Harum,
Funkadelic,
Organ,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harmonia,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.