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 Angola and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
The Knickerbockers,
The Star Department,
Gang Green,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultra Naté,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Young Rascals,
Andrew Hill,
the Association,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
ABBA,
Infiniti,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter and Kerry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fugazi,
Jawbox,
Tomorrow,
Marine Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Chrome,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Red Krayola,
T.S.O.L.,
Lalann,
Suburban Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Theoretical Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Rotary Connection,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare,
In Retrospect,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Symarip,
Yusef Lateef,
The Sound,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Charles Mingus,
Yaz,
Rapeman,
Kaleidoscope,
The Modern Lovers,
The Vogues,
New Age Steppers,
X-Ray Spex,
Make Up,
Kas Product,
Rod Modell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.