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 Namibia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Faraquet to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Soul Sonic Force,
Skaos,
Cheater Slicks,
Jeff Lynne,
David Bowie,
the Sonics,
Minutemen,
MC5,
The Evens,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Loose Ends,
Harmonia,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moss Icon,
The Star Department,
Stiv Bators,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Can,
Neil Young,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
Grandmaster Flash,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lindisfarne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wolf Eyes,
New York Dolls,
ABBA,
Joe Smooth,
The Wake,
Mandrill,
The Velvet Underground,
Sex Pistols,
Negative Approach,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed,
The Vogues,
Subhumans,
Warren Ellis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
Peter and Kerry,
the Soft Cell,
Rotary Connection,
The Divine Comedy,
the Human League,
Bad Manners,
the Germs,
The Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Junior Murvin,
Ludus,
Slick Rick,
The Mojo Men,
the Bar-Kays,
Swell Maps,
Radiohead,
Sixth Finger,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cure,
Make Up,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.