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 Rwanda and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grunge 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Birthday Party,
Sällskapet,
Supertramp,
ABC,
Flipper,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blancmange,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maurizio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Althea and Donna,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crash Course in Science,
Babytalk,
Gang Green,
FM Einheit,
Cameo,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Coltrane,
Sound Behaviour,
Mantronix,
Tears for Fears,
Grey Daturas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Faust,
Los Fastidios,
Bronski Beat,
The Evens,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Patti Smith,
Schoolly D,
The American Breed,
The Trojans,
The Residents,
Glambeats Corp.,
Max Romeo,
Gregory Isaacs,
Prince Buster,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Groovy Waters,
Fatback Band,
Archie Shepp,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Lydon,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.