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 Chad and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Smog to the grunge 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
the Bar-Kays,
Tears for Fears,
The Mojo Men,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Last Poets,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Motorama,
Black Sheep,
Tubeway Army,
Nik Kershaw,
Qualms,
Arthur Verocai,
Flipper,
Vainqueur,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Almond,
The Grass Roots,
Crime,
Parry Music,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Loose Ends,
Kenny Larkin,
Tim Buckley,
New York Dolls,
Radiohead,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Supertramp,
Blancmange,
Jacob Miller,
Patti Smith,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Steve Hackett,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Shoche,
Crooked Eye,
Visage,
Fela Kuti,
John Lydon,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Green,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Banda Bassotti,
Fatback Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Surgeon,
The Human League,
R.M.O.,
The Modern Lovers,
Arcadia,
Junior Murvin,
The Associates,
China Crisis,
Half Japanese,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bauhaus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Flash Fearless,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.