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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Grass Roots to the electroclash 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun Ra,
Suburban Knight,
Nico,
Rod Modell,
Mad Mike,
Youth Brigade,
Gang Green,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Finger,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Womack,
The Human League,
The Evens,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nik Kershaw,
ABBA,
Rakim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gories,
The Pretty Things,
The Durutti Column,
Rites of Spring,
Wolf Eyes,
Gong,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camouflage,
The Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Faust,
Procol Harum,
Fatback Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Aural Exciters,
Funky Four + One,
Gang of Four,
Gabor Szabo,
Laurel Aitken,
Soulsonic Force,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mr. Review,
The Trojans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
June of 44,
Minutemen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crash Course in Science,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scott Walker,
Godley & Creme,
Royal Trux,
Drexciya,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.