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 Somalia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
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 snare 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 Goldenarms to the rock 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Los Fastidios,
Aural Exciters,
The Names,
Black Pus,
Chris Corsano,
Ohio Players,
Public Enemy,
Cecil Taylor,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rakim,
Byron Stingily,
Vladislav Delay,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barrington Levy,
The Fuzztones,
Radio Birdman,
The Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
Rites of Spring,
Scratch Acid,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Fania All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Severed Heads,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wings,
Pantytec,
The Barracudas,
Qualms,
Inner City,
Royal Trux,
Bush Tetras,
Terry Callier,
The J.B.'s,
Essential Logic,
Soft Machine,
Buzzcocks,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Remains,
the Germs,
Oneida,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Golliwogs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gun Club,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Happenings,
The Real Kids,
Crooked Eye,
Arab on Radar,
Crash Course in Science,
Soulsonic Force,
The Leaves,
Circle Jerks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Count Five,
Marmalade,
Goldenarms,
Lebanon Hanover,
Peter and Kerry,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.