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 Czech Republic and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
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 sitar 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 Babytalk to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dead Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brick,
Roger Hodgson,
Y Pants,
Sun Ra,
Stetsasonic,
Ornette Coleman,
Japan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Smoke,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fela Kuti,
Johnny Clarke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Popol Vuh,
The Associates,
The Mummies,
the Swans,
ABC,
Royal Trux,
Agent Orange,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Shoche,
Crash Course in Science,
Fat Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
Slave,
X-Ray Spex,
Infiniti,
The Fall,
Unwound,
Metal Thangz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Victims,
Rhythm & Sound,
Altered Images,
Aswad,
Niagra,
Toni Rubio,
Ken Boothe,
Michelle Simonal,
Cymande,
Tom Boy,
Oblivians,
Rosa Yemen,
Pagans,
Scratch Acid,
Iggy Pop,
Simply Red,
Con Funk Shun,
Scrapy,
Laurel Aitken,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter and Kerry,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.