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 El Salvador and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 T.S.O.L. to the jazz 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Barbara Tucker,
Porter Ricks,
Tubeway Army,
Bronski Beat,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New York Dolls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tears for Fears,
Subhumans,
Flipper,
The Associates,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
The Electric Prunes,
The Young Rascals,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lower 48,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
Peter and Kerry,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dead C,
Erykah Badu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Circle Jerks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Velvet Underground,
Siglo XX,
Brand Nubian,
Unwound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lightning Bolt,
The Stooges,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spandau Ballet,
OOIOO,
Ice-T,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Morten Harket,
Tom Boy,
The Zeros,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Iggy Pop,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yusef Lateef,
Carl Craig,
Wings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arab on Radar,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gories,
Inner City,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slave,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ludus,
Stiv Bators,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.