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 Uganda and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Searchers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
X-Ray Spex,
Blossom Toes,
Ultra Naté,
The Martian,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bush Tetras,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
The Saints,
Faust,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lalo Schifrin,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Sheep,
Slick Rick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ronnie Foster,
Brand Nubian,
Technova,
Underground Resistance,
The Victims,
The Motions,
Au Pairs,
Television,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Trumans Water,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sun City Girls,
The Count Five,
The Toasters,
Wolf Eyes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nico,
Con Funk Shun,
Erasure,
The Beau Brummels,
X-102,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pagans,
Dennis Brown,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Sherman,
The Happenings,
Funkadelic,
Bluetip,
the Soft Cell,
Spandau Ballet,
Pylon,
Massinfluence,
Mandrill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Heaven 17,
Colin Newman,
Surgeon,
Cameo,
Magma,
Lalann,
Toni Rubio,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.