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 Portugal and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba 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 Crooked Eye to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Janne Schatter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Erasure,
Susan Cadogan,
Mark Hollis,
Eli Mardock,
Bronski Beat,
Sällskapet,
The Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Selecter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Freddie Wadling,
Intrusion,
Wolf Eyes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mantronix,
The Buckinghams,
Unwound,
The Walker Brothers,
Ken Boothe,
Lebanon Hanover,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül II,
Gong,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Silicon Teens,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kas Product,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lee Hazlewood,
F. McDonald,
Barbara Tucker,
The Beau Brummels,
The Evens,
Mission of Burma,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Velvet Underground,
It's A Beautiful Day,
David McCallum,
X-101,
Reuben Wilson,
A Certain Ratio,
Alton Ellis,
Pulsallama,
The Victims,
Isaac Hayes,
Prince Buster,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fear,
John Coltrane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Chris Corsano,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.