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 Kiribati and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dorothy Ashby to the electroclash 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Yellowson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Slits,
Scan 7,
The Martian,
Fad Gadget,
Sexual Harrassment,
Morten Harket,
The Buckinghams,
Wings,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Angels of Light,
Bauhaus,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Raincoats,
The Toasters,
The Monks,
New Age Steppers,
Neu!,
Deakin,
Lou Christie,
JFA,
Cameo,
Lindisfarne,
The Music Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Danielle Patucci,
Au Pairs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Von Mondo,
Graham Central Station,
Kurtis Blow,
Buzzcocks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sister Nancy,
Fat Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Judy Mowatt,
Spoonie Gee,
Depeche Mode,
Qualms,
Prince Buster,
Radio Birdman,
The Searchers,
Stereo Dub,
Lucky Dragons,
These Immortal Souls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Leaves,
Sonic Youth,
Marmalade,
Stiv Bators,
Surgeon,
Sixth Finger,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.