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 Libya and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Aural Exciters,
Arab on Radar,
Intrusion,
Pagans,
Fugazi,
Surgeon,
Outsiders,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fela Kuti,
The Moody Blues,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scratch Acid,
Godley & Creme,
The Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Blake Baxter,
Matthew Bourne,
D'Angelo,
The Fuzztones,
Fat Boys,
Supertramp,
Sound Behaviour,
The Monochrome Set,
Barry Ungar,
Audionom,
Inner City,
Alison Limerick,
Roxy Music,
Warsaw,
The Toasters,
Q65,
Soul Sonic Force,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fortunes,
Loose Ends,
Panda Bear,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantaleimon,
Whodini,
Chris Corsano,
UT,
Ponytail,
Ossler,
Sixth Finger,
Bush Tetras,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nirvana,
Howard Jones,
Rod Modell,
Janne Schatter,
Jawbox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crooked Eye,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Quando Quango,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dead C,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Happenings,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.