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 Belgium and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Procol Harum to the rock 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Second Layer,
China Crisis,
Bush Tetras,
Ludus,
Magma,
Oneida,
The Doobie Brothers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dennis Brown,
Flash Fearless,
Icehouse,
Rakim,
Wasted Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
Banda Bassotti,
Rites of Spring,
The Blues Magoos,
Skriet,
Bob Dylan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Procol Harum,
Black Pus,
Japan,
The Durutti Column,
Das Ding,
The Star Department,
Excepter,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
Massinfluence,
Symarip,
Piero Umiliani,
Moby Grape,
Cecil Taylor,
The Electric Prunes,
Kaleidoscope,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Christie,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Steve Hackett,
Liliput,
Adolescents,
Y Pants,
Alison Limerick,
Nas,
Mandrill,
Simply Red,
Babytalk,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
Blake Baxter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ken Boothe,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.