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 Belgium and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Rekid to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
R.M.O.,
Ice-T,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Iggy Pop,
Brick,
The Divine Comedy,
Sister Nancy,
Neu!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dead Boys,
Wire,
Faraquet,
Barbara Tucker,
Smog,
The Star Department,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dirtbombs,
Steve Hackett,
The Human League,
The Doobie Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Rufus Thomas,
Gabor Szabo,
Idris Muhammad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Litter,
The Gories,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Coltrane,
Connie Case,
Depeche Mode,
the Germs,
Anthony Braxton,
Flash Fearless,
Joe Finger,
Visage,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Skatalites,
Siglo XX,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Christie,
Magma,
Archie Shepp,
Soulsonic Force,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Vogues,
Hot Snakes,
Main Source,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marc Almond,
KRS-One,
June of 44,
Fat Boys,
Al Stewart,
The Moody Blues,
Colin Newman,
The Seeds,
The Real Kids,
Groovy Waters,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.