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 Vietnam and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultravox to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio 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 '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 Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thee Headcoats,
L. Decosne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Swans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Malaria!,
Donny Hathaway,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Starr,
Masters at Work,
Porter Ricks,
Anthony Braxton,
The Standells,
H. Thieme,
Rapeman,
Ronnie Foster,
The Invisible,
Warsaw,
the Human League,
The Wake,
Babytalk,
Jacques Brel,
Crooked Eye,
Sarah Menescal,
Kurtis Blow,
The Leaves,
Eric Dolphy,
The Neon Judgement,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rites of Spring,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
kango's stein massive,
Animal Collective,
Minutemen,
Gang Green,
Youth Brigade,
the Normal,
The Buckinghams,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mission of Burma,
Sugar Minott,
John Lydon,
Godley & Creme,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Martian,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oblivians,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Simply Red,
Grey Daturas,
The Modern Lovers,
Intrusion,
Symarip,
Trumans Water,
Country Teasers,
Saccharine Trust,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.