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 Bahamas and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
R.M.O.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bill Near,
Harmonia,
Jeff Lynne,
Television,
Yazoo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Qualms,
The United States of America,
Arcadia,
The Tremeloes,
Steve Hackett,
Angry Samoans,
Barbara Tucker,
Aloha Tigers,
The Mojo Men,
Urselle,
Vainqueur,
Rod Modell,
Terry Callier,
Shoche,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Zeros,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Martian,
The Knickerbockers,
kango's stein massive,
The Dirtbombs,
Unwound,
Flipper,
Sister Nancy,
Ornette Coleman,
K-Klass,
Soft Cell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Henry Cow,
Ronnie Foster,
The Sonics,
CMW,
Chris Corsano,
Eddi Front,
the Slits,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Outsiders,
Agent Orange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grauzone,
Peter & Gordon,
Thompson Twins,
Groovy Waters,
Soft Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
The Skatalites,
Lucky Dragons,
Funky Four + One,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Bananas,
Alton Ellis,
Kerri Chandler,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.