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 Jordan and from Johannesburg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moleskins to the dance 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
48th St. Collective,
Easy Going,
Visage,
H. Thieme,
Junior Murvin,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
Pierre Henry,
Anakelly,
Brass Construction,
The Stooges,
Robert Wyatt,
Magazine,
Fad Gadget,
Byron Stingily,
Eddi Front,
The Last Poets,
Tubeway Army,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Supertramp,
Angry Samoans,
Carl Craig,
The Moleskins,
David McCallum,
T.S.O.L.,
Inner City,
Young Marble Giants,
The Litter,
The Associates,
Arab on Radar,
Johnny Clarke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Letta Mbulu,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sonics,
The Gories,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang Green,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crash Course in Science,
Joensuu 1685,
Aural Exciters,
Country Teasers,
One Last Wish,
Leonard Cohen,
Jandek,
Sonic Youth,
Liliput,
Freddie Wadling,
Idris Muhammad,
The Electric Prunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Au Pairs,
Deakin,
Joyce Sims,
The Slits,
B.T. Express,
Mandrill,
The Standells,
Pagans,
Alice Coltrane,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.