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 Latvia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 PIL to the disco 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Con Funk Shun,
Suburban Knight,
Stiv Bators,
The Knickerbockers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Inner City,
UT,
World's Most,
Essential Logic,
Grauzone,
Cybotron,
Bluetip,
Marmalade,
Talk Talk,
Main Source,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
New Order,
Magazine,
Kaleidoscope,
Pole,
Robert Hood,
June of 44,
Deakin,
Erasure,
Fat Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Sheep,
Clear Light,
Desert Stars,
Franke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Oblivians,
Anthony Braxton,
Erykah Badu,
Rakim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bad Manners,
Crash Course in Science,
Kurtis Blow,
The Modern Lovers,
Camberwell Now,
Gerry Rafferty,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultravox,
Rites of Spring,
The Smiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fuzztones,
June Days,
Crooked Eye,
Ronnie Foster,
Sex Pistols,
Hashim,
FM Einheit,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.