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 Bulgaria and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Five Americans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Normal,
Rotary Connection,
Slick Rick,
The Victims,
Cymande,
Arcadia,
Marvin Gaye,
Judy Mowatt,
Moby Grape,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fortunes,
Pylon,
Jandek,
Blake Baxter,
Pet Shop Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Walker Brothers,
Soft Cell,
Black Moon,
Kaleidoscope,
Von Mondo,
The Move,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry's Kids,
The Red Krayola,
Connie Case,
Bronski Beat,
Rites of Spring,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Faraquet,
Underground Resistance,
Wings,
The Star Department,
Bootsy Collins,
Steve Hackett,
Audionom,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Wyatt,
The Vogues,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gabor Szabo,
Fad Gadget,
Sandy B,
The Alarm Clocks,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare,
Chris Corsano,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eurythmics,
Anakelly,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deepchord,
The Fire Engines,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Adolescents,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Anthony Braxton,
Cheater Slicks,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.