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 Kuwait and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Kevin Saunderson to the techno 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wolf Eyes,
Black Bananas,
The Young Rascals,
Suburban Knight,
The Doors,
Kenny Larkin,
Prince Buster,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dorothy Ashby,
Royal Trux,
The Index,
Desert Stars,
Dual Sessions,
Pagans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Charles Mingus,
Mission of Burma,
The Vogues,
Section 25,
Hardrive,
The Move,
OOIOO,
Minor Threat,
Crime,
MC5,
Deakin,
Bobby Byrd,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Slits,
The Wake,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brothers Johnson,
Minnie Riperton,
Swell Maps,
Howard Jones,
Bluetip,
Morten Harket,
Flipper,
La Düsseldorf,
The Walker Brothers,
Godley & Creme,
Toni Rubio,
John Coltrane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kool Moe Dee,
Little Man,
Country Teasers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soft Cell,
Flash Fearless,
Quando Quango,
Dennis Brown,
Con Funk Shun,
Youth Brigade,
Lightning Bolt,
The Buckinghams,
Man Parrish,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.