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 Belgium and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Rotary Connection,
Babytalk,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Colin Newman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Parry Music,
Kenny Larkin,
Stiv Bators,
Prince Buster,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Durutti Column,
Pussy Galore,
Negative Approach,
Cybotron,
Anthony Braxton,
the Soft Cell,
Moby Grape,
Y Pants,
Television Personalities,
Leonard Cohen,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kerri Chandler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ronnie Foster,
The Golliwogs,
Can,
Avey Tare,
Bob Dylan,
T. Rex,
The Searchers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Erasure,
Swans,
Nirvana,
The Star Department,
Soft Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Christie,
Jandek,
Country Teasers,
New Order,
ABBA,
Average White Band,
Scratch Acid,
Sight & Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
John Cale,
Tom Boy,
Johnny Clarke,
Gichy Dan,
Janne Schatter,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mummies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fugs,
Wally Richardson,
Spoonie Gee,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.