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 Vietnam and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Morten Harket,
Harry Pussy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Godley & Creme,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang Starr,
The Selecter,
Nik Kershaw,
Masters at Work,
Infiniti,
Hot Snakes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neu!,
The Names,
Pere Ubu,
Cecil Taylor,
the Swans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dennis Brown,
Fluxion,
Todd Rundgren,
Minny Pops,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Henry Cow,
Au Pairs,
The Walker Brothers,
Lalann,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Howard Jones,
The Fortunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Sheep,
Sam Rivers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scratch Acid,
The Moody Blues,
The Litter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jerry's Kids,
The Invisible,
Pussy Galore,
The Human League,
Sugar Minott,
Al Stewart,
Delta 5,
Severed Heads,
The Fugs,
China Crisis,
Tommy Roe,
David McCallum,
The Seeds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sällskapet,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Intrusion,
The Real Kids,
Lindisfarne,
Cal Tjader,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.