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 Cape Verde and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 The Remains to the crunk 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Dave Gahan,
The Slackers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
The Electric Prunes,
Sex Pistols,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dave Clark Five,
Reagan Youth,
Shoche,
Blancmange,
Freddie Wadling,
D'Angelo,
Lyres,
Lucky Dragons,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brothers Johnson,
Hasil Adkins,
Duran Duran,
Camouflage,
Stiv Bators,
The Music Machine,
The Evens,
Massinfluence,
48th St. Collective,
Pierre Henry,
Panda Bear,
Robert Hood,
This Heat,
CMW,
Sonic Youth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Divine Comedy,
Bill Near,
Amon Düül II,
Cybotron,
Juan Atkins,
June of 44,
Todd Terry,
The Star Department,
Qualms,
Sarah Menescal,
Terry Callier,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fall,
Newcleus,
10cc,
Derrick May,
The Misunderstood,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wally Richardson,
Slave,
Lalann,
The Monks,
Rapeman,
Intrusion,
Rod Modell,
Ornette Coleman,
Public Enemy,
Los Fastidios,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Sherman,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.