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 Madagascar and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Visage to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Crispy Ambulance,
Byron Stingily,
Spoonie Gee,
Malaria!,
Blossom Toes,
The Neon Judgement,
Bronski Beat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jeff Lynne,
K-Klass,
Quadrant,
Jesper Dahlback,
Derrick Morgan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABC,
Arab on Radar,
Slave,
Judy Mowatt,
kango's stein massive,
U.S. Maple,
The Happenings,
Cecil Taylor,
Stereo Dub,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Foxx,
Sonic Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Spandau Ballet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tres Demented,
Delta 5,
Moebius,
Jawbox,
The Trojans,
Excepter,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Swans,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Saints,
Bobby Womack,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Quantec,
T.S.O.L.,
The Litter,
Janne Schatter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Blancmange,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.