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 Portugal and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 Radio Birdman to the funk 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fear,
Goldenarms,
Alphaville,
Shuggie Otis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cure,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grey Daturas,
The J.B.'s,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
Television Personalities,
Funkadelic,
Neu!,
Freddie Wadling,
Wings,
Patti Smith,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Simply Red,
The Names,
Gang Gang Dance,
Angry Samoans,
T.S.O.L.,
Nils Olav,
Rekid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tears for Fears,
Joe Finger,
The Dead C,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Moon,
Loose Ends,
La Düsseldorf,
Ossler,
The Moleskins,
The Alarm Clocks,
H. Thieme,
Nas,
Pantaleimon,
Procol Harum,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hasil Adkins,
Inner City,
Kayak,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Avey Tare,
Saccharine Trust,
KRS-One,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Selecter,
Silicon Teens,
Suicide,
Malaria!,
New Age Steppers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxy Music,
Aural Exciters,
Newcleus,
Oblivians,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.