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 Zambia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Audionom 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Radio Birdman,
Zapp,
Blancmange,
Bobby Sherman,
Bluetip,
Technova,
Barbara Tucker,
The Offenders,
Mars,
Duran Duran,
Oneida,
Radiohead,
Kas Product,
Hasil Adkins,
Connie Case,
CMW,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Hood,
Rites of Spring,
The Doors,
The Five Americans,
The Knickerbockers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scott Walker,
Suburban Knight,
The Moleskins,
Crooked Eye,
Fatback Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Davy DMX,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra,
Eric Copeland,
Vladislav Delay,
Quantec,
Bootsy Collins,
The Zeros,
DJ Sneak,
Negative Approach,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Slackers,
Roy Ayers,
Morten Harket,
Intrusion,
Pulsallama,
Crime,
Skaos,
Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
Young Marble Giants,
Fad Gadget,
Soulsonic Force,
Quando Quango,
the Normal,
Kaleidoscope,
Lower 48,
Wire,
Metal Thangz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.