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 Mali and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar 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 Prince Buster to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
A Certain Ratio,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lucky Dragons,
Radio Birdman,
DJ Style,
Gang Green,
Audionom,
Brass Construction,
The Wake,
Theoretical Girls,
Lyres,
Eli Mardock,
The Remains,
Sun City Girls,
Henry Cow,
X-102,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ice-T,
Bobby Hutcherson,
F. McDonald,
Wire,
Outsiders,
Deepchord,
The Last Poets,
E-Dancer,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Das Ding,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
June Days,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kayak,
L. Decosne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agitation Free,
Tres Demented,
Depeche Mode,
Liliput,
John Coltrane,
Tears for Fears,
Crooked Eye,
Crash Course in Science,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Knickerbockers,
Yazoo,
Sparks,
Ken Boothe,
La Düsseldorf,
Y Pants,
The Cowsills,
Massinfluence,
Motorama,
Neil Young,
Wasted Youth,
Sound Behaviour,
Make Up,
Donny Hathaway,
Popol Vuh,
T.S.O.L.,
The Divine Comedy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Pus,
Sam Rivers,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.