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 Bhutan 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Eden Ahbez to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
The Birthday Party,
Arcadia,
Japan,
Barry Ungar,
The Last Poets,
Procol Harum,
Maurizio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Man Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Guru Guru,
Ludus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Livin' Joy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minnie Riperton,
The Knickerbockers,
Reuben Wilson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
JFA,
Flash Fearless,
Marmalade,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Christie,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mummies,
Circle Jerks,
Mark Hollis,
The Stooges,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Letta Mbulu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Index,
Section 25,
Brand Nubian,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kurtis Blow,
FM Einheit,
Peter & Gordon,
Nico,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Goldenarms,
Sun Ra,
Donny Hathaway,
Intrusion,
L. Decosne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
kango's stein massive,
Dark Day,
Matthew Bourne,
Roxy Music,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Althea and Donna,
Rufus Thomas,
Siglo XX,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABC,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.