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 Saudi Arabia and from Spokane.
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 Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Guru Guru to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Essential Logic,
Cecil Taylor,
Barry Ungar,
The Busters,
Sarah Menescal,
Heaven 17,
Terrestrial Tones,
Y Pants,
Avey Tare,
The Move,
Outsiders,
Lindisfarne,
Clear Light,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Skriet,
Duran Duran,
Second Layer,
Michelle Simonal,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harry Pussy,
Janne Schatter,
Wings,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neil Young,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Theoretical Girls,
The Raincoats,
Adolescents,
Pulsallama,
The Golliwogs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Howard Jones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Camberwell Now,
The Residents,
The Fuzztones,
the Swans,
Q65,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bill Near,
The Electric Prunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Zero Boys,
Index,
The Fugs,
the Germs,
Anakelly,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Divine Comedy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Sonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mark Hollis,
Marine Girls,
MDC,
Au Pairs,
Amon Düül,
Fear,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.