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 Mauritania and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Tears for Fears to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Terry Callier,
the Slits,
kango's stein massive,
Khruangbin,
The Kinks,
Vainqueur,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brand Nubian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soulsonic Force,
Audionom,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rakim,
CMW,
Arab on Radar,
Rosa Yemen,
Scan 7,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rites of Spring,
the Swans,
Alton Ellis,
Lightning Bolt,
Don Cherry,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fat Boys,
The Techniques,
Kurtis Blow,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
The Golliwogs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rufus Thomas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hashim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sound Behaviour,
The Red Krayola,
The Modern Lovers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monolake,
Pagans,
Grey Daturas,
Livin' Joy,
The Smiths,
Black Pus,
Flipper,
Barrington Levy,
UT,
The Slackers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fall,
Al Stewart,
Godley & Creme,
Bob Dylan,
Supertramp,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.