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 Kiribati and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brand Nubian to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
Tubeway Army,
Angry Samoans,
Sun Ra,
PIL,
The Dirtbombs,
Nik Kershaw,
Charles Mingus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marvin Gaye,
Intrusion,
Gong,
Black Bananas,
The Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Susan Cadogan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter and Kerry,
The Selecter,
The Moleskins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Altered Images,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Quantec,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Stereo Dub,
Johnny Clarke,
Nick Fraelich,
David Bowie,
E-Dancer,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fugazi,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deepchord,
Moebius,
Pierre Henry,
Bang On A Can,
The Tremeloes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moss Icon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
The Slits,
The Electric Prunes,
Groovy Waters,
The Alarm Clocks,
The J.B.'s,
Warren Ellis,
The Fuzztones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Thompson Twins,
The Gories,
The Smiths,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiohead,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lyres,
Ronan,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.