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 Moldova and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Fela Kuti to the rap 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake 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?
Magma,
Brothers Johnson,
Crooked Eye,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cure,
Nik Kershaw,
Erasure,
Roxy Music,
The Misunderstood,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dead Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joe Smooth,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
Banda Bassotti,
Eurythmics,
Outsiders,
Dark Day,
Inner City,
Grauzone,
Peter & Gordon,
The Move,
The Fuzztones,
Intrusion,
Soul Sonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Dave Gahan,
Faust,
Supertramp,
Bizarre Inc.,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Khruangbin,
Aural Exciters,
Pulsallama,
Godley & Creme,
Tim Buckley,
The Skatalites,
the Swans,
The Selecter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Smiths,
Radio Birdman,
The Pop Group,
John Holt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rod Modell,
Excepter,
Derrick Morgan,
Ronan,
The Stooges,
James White and The Blacks,
Hasil Adkins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barbara Tucker,
The Five Americans,
AZ,
Skarface,
Yusef Lateef,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.