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 Monaco and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Machine to the rock 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Byrd,
Anthony Braxton,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Monks,
Soft Cell,
Depeche Mode,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
A Certain Ratio,
The Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ludus,
Porter Ricks,
Alice Coltrane,
The Happenings,
Shoche,
Eric Dolphy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sparks,
The Black Dice,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gladiators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
La Düsseldorf,
Malaria!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Moon,
Boredoms,
The Neon Judgement,
Eve St. Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Velvet Underground,
Erykah Badu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
World's Most,
Average White Band,
Matthew Halsall,
The Evens,
Stiv Bators,
Alphaville,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Motorama,
Flash Fearless,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alison Limerick,
Smog,
Gang Starr,
Angry Samoans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joyce Sims,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.