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 Bulgaria and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Matthew Halsall to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Crash Course in Science,
Porter Ricks,
The Human League,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Wake,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
Eric Dolphy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dorothy Ashby,
ABC,
T. Rex,
The Doobie Brothers,
Intrusion,
Banda Bassotti,
E-Dancer,
Brick,
Steve Hackett,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Unwound,
The Zeros,
Absolute Body Control,
Thompson Twins,
Groovy Waters,
The Invisible,
Bang On A Can,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Quantec,
Bobby Womack,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Surgeon,
Henry Cow,
The Walker Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
June Days,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fire Engines,
Kevin Saunderson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
Severed Heads,
Suicide,
Tom Boy,
Slave,
John Cale,
The J.B.'s,
Blossom Toes,
Joensuu 1685,
Roger Hodgson,
These Immortal Souls,
EPMD,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cramps,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
China Crisis,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.