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 Micronesia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stetsasonic to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Crime,
The Slackers,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül,
The Kinks,
Main Source,
Mr. Review,
Bizarre Inc.,
H. Thieme,
Ohio Players,
Fort Wilson Riot,
A Certain Ratio,
Joe Smooth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Groovy Waters,
Massinfluence,
Marmalade,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Görl,
Pole,
Sun City Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Gerry Rafferty,
Henry Cow,
The Blues Magoos,
Wolf Eyes,
Index,
Stereo Dub,
Marc Almond,
Camouflage,
a-ha,
Steve Hackett,
The Seeds,
Duran Duran,
Oblivians,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harry Pussy,
F. McDonald,
World's Most,
Ludus,
Ossler,
Half Japanese,
Ten City,
Charles Mingus,
Maurizio,
Jeff Mills,
Kenny Larkin,
The Wake,
Second Layer,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dead Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Soft Cell,
The Invisible,
The Doobie Brothers,
Josef K,
Silicon Teens,
Icehouse,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.