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 Switzerland and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Star Department to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Bobby Womack,
Hoover,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pantaleimon,
X-102,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Malaria!,
Black Moon,
Bill Wells,
Desert Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
Harry Pussy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Adolescents,
Slick Rick,
Public Enemy,
Faraquet,
Panda Bear,
Drive Like Jehu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cymande,
Electric Prunes,
Spandau Ballet,
DNA,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Evens,
Kaleidoscope,
Franke,
Aaron Thompson,
Guru Guru,
Bad Manners,
Jeff Lynne,
The Smoke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
In Retrospect,
Talk Talk,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Grauzone,
The Seeds,
Barrington Levy,
Archie Shepp,
EPMD,
Gang Green,
Severed Heads,
Fugazi,
Altered Images,
Barbara Tucker,
Echospace,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bootsy Collins,
The Human League,
Inner City,
Bob Dylan,
Mantronix,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Quando Quango,
DJ Sneak,
Prince Buster,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.