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 Papua New Guinea and from Woodstock.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Amazonics 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Dirtbombs,
Sixth Finger,
Gong,
Talk Talk,
Johnny Clarke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Symarip,
Steve Hackett,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Doors,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Letta Mbulu,
Royal Trux,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
The Trojans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Sherman,
The Monochrome Set,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Los Fastidios,
Iggy Pop,
Mark Hollis,
Ken Boothe,
Howard Jones,
Qualms,
Ten City,
Dual Sessions,
Eric Dolphy,
Swans,
The Black Dice,
Stiv Bators,
Andrew Hill,
Unwound,
Surgeon,
kango's stein massive,
Mantronix,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter & Gordon,
the Association,
Nik Kershaw,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Germs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hoover,
The Mummies,
The Busters,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.