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 Somalia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
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 spring reverb 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 Nick Fraelich to the punk 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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Althea and Donna,
Deakin,
Parry Music,
Curtis Mayfield,
The J.B.'s,
The Saints,
Bob Dylan,
The Trojans,
Newcleus,
Alison Limerick,
Sonny Sharrock,
PIL,
10cc,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Sonics,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chrome,
Sällskapet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Durutti Column,
D'Angelo,
Masters at Work,
Arcadia,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
Sugar Minott,
Grauzone,
Joe Finger,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sex Pistols,
Camouflage,
Pharoah Sanders,
Morten Harket,
Glenn Branca,
Malaria!,
Unwound,
Groovy Waters,
Fad Gadget,
The Moody Blues,
Joyce Sims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gong,
Flipper,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Suburban Knight,
FM Einheit,
Kevin Saunderson,
Essential Logic,
Yusef Lateef,
Swans,
Funky Four + One,
MDC,
The Fortunes,
Boz Scaggs,
Heaven 17,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.