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 Ivory Coast and from Columbus.
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 Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Porter Ricks to the electroclash 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Supertramp,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Normal,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kaleidoscope,
The Searchers,
Maleditus Sound,
Pierre Henry,
Khruangbin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zero Boys,
Second Layer,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Altered Images,
Ossler,
Harmonia,
Rotary Connection,
Kas Product,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eli Mardock,
Chris Corsano,
Minny Pops,
Barry Ungar,
In Retrospect,
Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Japan,
Circle Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Techniques,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Saints,
The Dirtbombs,
Scan 7,
Alton Ellis,
Idris Muhammad,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeff Lynne,
Animal Collective,
The Index,
Tom Boy,
Marvin Gaye,
Maurizio,
Angry Samoans,
Darondo,
Colin Newman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barrington Levy,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Byrd,
John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
The Busters,
Soulsonic Force,
Ornette Coleman,
Dave Gahan,
Cluster,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.