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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Searchers to the grunge 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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Dave Gahan,
The Monochrome Set,
MC5,
The Skatalites,
The Zeros,
Pulsallama,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gories,
Tim Buckley,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barrington Levy,
Brand Nubian,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Germs,
John Cale,
Spandau Ballet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
Procol Harum,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Real Kids,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Christie,
Hashim,
The Mummies,
Fat Boys,
Marvin Gaye,
Bob Dylan,
Cameo,
Au Pairs,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick May,
Max Romeo,
10cc,
Mr. Review,
Jacques Brel,
This Heat,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Porter Ricks,
The Fall,
The Move,
the Sonics,
The Grass Roots,
Spoonie Gee,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eve St. Jones,
Yusef Lateef,
Roger Hodgson,
Liliput,
Deepchord,
Tomorrow,
Ronan,
Index,
X-102,
the Normal,
Faraquet,
Underground Resistance,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.