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 Finland and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Heaven 17,
Marmalade,
Ken Boothe,
Eli Mardock,
The Black Dice,
Ronan,
Rakim,
June Days,
The Monks,
Davy DMX,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fela Kuti,
Ultra Naté,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crash Course in Science,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ice-T,
Hoover,
Tommy Roe,
Scientists,
Deadbeat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Sherman,
Desert Stars,
Gang of Four,
Sällskapet,
Lou Christie,
Basic Channel,
Albert Ayler,
Ituana,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Idris Muhammad,
Colin Newman,
Bluetip,
The Knickerbockers,
Derrick May,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pere Ubu,
Joey Negro,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camberwell Now,
The Count Five,
Depeche Mode,
T. Rex,
Jacob Miller,
Shuggie Otis,
the Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Q65,
Rotary Connection,
EPMD,
Moss Icon,
Half Japanese,
Cymande,
The Real Kids,
DJ Sneak,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.