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 Jamaica and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 New Christs to the crunk 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Rites of Spring,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boredoms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jacob Miller,
Aswad,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soft Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liliput,
Marc Almond,
Steve Hackett,
ABC,
Laurel Aitken,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang On A Can,
Mandrill,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Los Fastidios,
X-Ray Spex,
Visage,
Johnny Osbourne,
Curtis Mayfield,
Girls At Our Best!,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Con Funk Shun,
Yellowson,
Magma,
Zapp,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fear,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soft Cell,
Robert Hood,
Blake Baxter,
New Order,
Joe Smooth,
Michelle Simonal,
Lightning Bolt,
Brass Construction,
Barclay James Harvest,
Easy Going,
The Dirtbombs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gong,
Sandy B,
Janne Schatter,
This Heat,
Juan Atkins,
Eve St. Jones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Ultravox,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lee Hazlewood,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.