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 Tajikistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Robert Palmer 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 Severed Heads to the grunge 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Malaria!,
The Gap Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang of Four,
a-ha,
The J.B.'s,
Jawbox,
Cybotron,
48th St. Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
The Leaves,
Stockholm Monsters,
ABBA,
Suicide,
The Stooges,
The American Breed,
Negative Approach,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camouflage,
Wolf Eyes,
F. McDonald,
Slave,
Black Bananas,
Ultravox,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fela Kuti,
Lower 48,
The Litter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ludus,
Quando Quango,
Lightning Bolt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Charles Mingus,
U.S. Maple,
World's Most,
Scion,
Amon Düül II,
DJ Style,
Barrington Levy,
Smog,
Ten City,
Yellowson,
The Cure,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Funkadelic,
Tres Demented,
Jacob Miller,
Lebanon Hanover,
Byron Stingily,
The Kinks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Neil Young,
The Young Rascals,
Deadbeat,
Bobby Womack,
Accadde A,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.