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 Namibia 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dorothy Ashby to the jazz 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Siglo XX,
The Electric Prunes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
Wings,
The Busters,
Excepter,
Joensuu 1685,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cymande,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Detroit Cobras,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Archie Shepp,
Boredoms,
Piero Umiliani,
The Smiths,
10cc,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Five Americans,
Amazonics,
DNA,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scratch Acid,
Rakim,
UT,
Charles Mingus,
Pulsallama,
Man Parrish,
Chris Corsano,
New York Dolls,
Kerri Chandler,
James White and The Blacks,
Tears for Fears,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joyce Sims,
Roy Ayers,
The Kinks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Erasure,
the Fania All-Stars,
Michelle Simonal,
Sällskapet,
Kayak,
Tropical Tobacco,
Colin Newman,
Albert Ayler,
Clear Light,
Soul II Soul,
Minutemen,
K-Klass,
ABC,
Metal Thangz,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Von Mondo,
Subhumans,
Delta 5,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.