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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mumbai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ten City 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Matthew Halsall,
Fugazi,
Charles Mingus,
Infiniti,
China Crisis,
Banda Bassotti,
Nico,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Sound Behaviour,
Minny Pops,
Cal Tjader,
Eric Copeland,
Technova,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Magazine,
F. McDonald,
The Walker Brothers,
The Last Poets,
Brass Construction,
Gregory Isaacs,
Public Enemy,
Kaleidoscope,
Babytalk,
Q65,
Bad Manners,
the Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mojo Men,
Mark Hollis,
the Sonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultravox,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rekid,
Flipper,
Accadde A,
DJ Style,
David Bowie,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeff Mills,
Tom Boy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Pop Group,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Searchers,
Anthony Braxton,
Swans,
Joey Negro,
Simply Red,
The Star Department,
Goldenarms,
A Certain Ratio,
Section 25,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Five Americans,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.