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 Iceland and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stereo Dub,
Altered Images,
T.S.O.L.,
Wire,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blancmange,
Panda Bear,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Cale,
The Pretty Things,
Malaria!,
The Happenings,
Deepchord,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Los Fastidios,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eden Ahbez,
Au Pairs,
Althea and Donna,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scratch Acid,
Crime,
the Swans,
U.S. Maple,
Unwound,
a-ha,
Joyce Sims,
Scion,
The Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
KRS-One,
Eric Dolphy,
Model 500,
The Index,
World's Most,
the Slits,
Bauhaus,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fugs,
Brothers Johnson,
Ituana,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Blues Magoos,
Aural Exciters,
Siglo XX,
R.M.O.,
Sarah Menescal,
DJ Sneak,
Sun City Girls,
the Association,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magazine,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.