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 Cambodia and from Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mandrill to the punk 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Mandrill,
The Motions,
Sällskapet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Toni Rubio,
The Neon Judgement,
Whodini,
The Fortunes,
Iggy Pop,
X-102,
Ralphi Rosario,
10cc,
Bill Near,
Little Man,
Chrome,
Pole,
Japan,
Pulsallama,
The Selecter,
The Names,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Leonard Cohen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
One Last Wish,
Archie Shepp,
the Normal,
The Raincoats,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Matthew Bourne,
Gichy Dan,
The Smoke,
Ronnie Foster,
Mary Jane Girls,
Easy Going,
Roy Ayers,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Star Department,
The Sound,
The Techniques,
Fatback Band,
Rites of Spring,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
John Coltrane,
Das Ding,
The Monochrome Set,
Make Up,
T.S.O.L.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Morten Harket,
Depeche Mode,
The Cure,
Kerri Chandler,
Sight & Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.