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 Gabon and from Cairo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 These Immortal Souls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Robert Wyatt,
Bill Near,
Deakin,
Banda Bassotti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reuben Wilson,
The Evens,
Depeche Mode,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Spoonie Gee,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Toasters,
Kenny Larkin,
Surgeon,
Rufus Thomas,
June Days,
The Real Kids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Laurel Aitken,
Tres Demented,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Lynne,
Sixth Finger,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Selecter,
Ituana,
Gabor Szabo,
Bauhaus,
Quando Quango,
Faraquet,
kango's stein massive,
Terry Callier,
Organ,
Erasure,
Maleditus Sound,
Cal Tjader,
Sight & Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Monolake,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Starr,
The Blackbyrds,
Yazoo,
Negative Approach,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Flag,
Smog,
48th St. Collective,
the Normal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
L. Decosne,
James White and The Blacks,
the Bar-Kays,
The Monochrome Set,
Harmonia,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.