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 Sudan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord 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 H. Thieme to the techno 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Flipper,
Freddie Wadling,
Sugar Minott,
Eddi Front,
The Tremeloes,
Judy Mowatt,
Mad Mike,
The Star Department,
Donald Byrd,
Davy DMX,
Blancmange,
Bauhaus,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mummies,
Quando Quango,
Roy Ayers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Zapp,
The Real Kids,
Moebius,
Lou Christie,
Essential Logic,
Clear Light,
The Moleskins,
Rekid,
The Doors,
U.S. Maple,
Deakin,
Alton Ellis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joey Negro,
Sound Behaviour,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dirtbombs,
Guru Guru,
Gang Gang Dance,
DJ Style,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drexciya,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Black Dice,
Crash Course in Science,
Oneida,
Rotary Connection,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Archie Shepp,
Henry Cow,
The Monochrome Set,
Byron Stingily,
Icehouse,
Nik Kershaw,
Peter & Gordon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare,
Porter Ricks,
Pole,
Amon Düül,
Sexual Harrassment,
Terrestrial Tones,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.