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 Taiwan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 Anakelly to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Los Fastidios,
Vainqueur,
Jacques Brel,
Sugar Minott,
The Gladiators,
The Names,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Sherman,
Livin' Joy,
Minny Pops,
Moss Icon,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kaleidoscope,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Half Japanese,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fear,
Grauzone,
The Flesh Eaters,
Little Man,
Qualms,
Bobby Byrd,
Yellowson,
Harmonia,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cybotron,
The Vogues,
Angry Samoans,
Bluetip,
Blake Baxter,
the Human League,
Aloha Tigers,
Tomorrow,
Lou Reed,
The Fortunes,
The Fire Engines,
Essential Logic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Smog,
The Blues Magoos,
La Düsseldorf,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kayak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Index,
E-Dancer,
John Lydon,
Icehouse,
Warsaw,
Don Cherry,
Joe Smooth,
Motorama,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dirtbombs,
Brothers Johnson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.