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 Iceland and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Radiopuhelimet to the punk 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Animal Collective,
Howard Jones,
Eric Dolphy,
Dual Sessions,
Skarface,
Von Mondo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jeff Mills,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Selecter,
The Durutti Column,
Ronan,
Aswad,
Soft Cell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Standells,
Cal Tjader,
Newcleus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Clear Light,
Joyce Sims,
Talk Talk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T.S.O.L.,
New Age Steppers,
Surgeon,
Eric Copeland,
The Fugs,
Tubeway Army,
The Leaves,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Tremeloes,
Fatback Band,
Blossom Toes,
Slick Rick,
Shoche,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Easy Going,
Cybotron,
Alice Coltrane,
Negative Approach,
Japan,
Dawn Penn,
JFA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Wyatt,
Vladislav Delay,
Pere Ubu,
Mad Mike,
Arcadia,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
FM Einheit,
Camouflage,
Iggy Pop,
Black Pus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sun City Girls,
David Bowie,
a-ha,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.