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 Estonia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Radiopuhelimet to the jazz 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico 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 oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Magazine,
Blancmange,
Chris Corsano,
Joyce Sims,
Urselle,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Womack,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mr. Review,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sex Pistols,
The Sound,
Al Stewart,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Byrd,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maurizio,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dave Clark Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Swans,
Gang of Four,
Audionom,
E-Dancer,
The Fugs,
Skriet,
The Divine Comedy,
Moby Grape,
Archie Shepp,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rufus Thomas,
Von Mondo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Metal Thangz,
Con Funk Shun,
June of 44,
Harpers Bizarre,
Drive Like Jehu,
The J.B.'s,
Sun City Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Suburban Knight,
Brass Construction,
Danielle Patucci,
DNA,
The Searchers,
David McCallum,
Television,
the Bar-Kays,
Porter Ricks,
The Slits,
Adolescents,
The Busters,
Eric Copeland,
Clear Light,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Intrusion,
Davy DMX,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.