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 Botswana and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lyres,
The Tremeloes,
Radiohead,
Susan Cadogan,
cv313,
John Cale,
The Durutti Column,
a-ha,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cramps,
Marmalade,
Chrome,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gichy Dan,
Kerri Chandler,
Vladislav Delay,
Soft Cell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Michelle Simonal,
Fat Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Zeros,
Charles Mingus,
Spandau Ballet,
Swans,
Rites of Spring,
B.T. Express,
Masters at Work,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Busters,
Robert Görl,
Grauzone,
Quantec,
Blake Baxter,
DJ Style,
the Germs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Selecter,
In Retrospect,
Minor Threat,
Robert Wyatt,
Surgeon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Reuben Wilson,
Johnny Clarke,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Leaves,
The Velvet Underground,
Steve Hackett,
Tears for Fears,
U.S. Maple,
Eurythmics,
Magma,
Skriet,
Harry Pussy,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.