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 India and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Suicide to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Sonics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacob Miller,
The Pop Group,
The Victims,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deepchord,
Procol Harum,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sixth Finger,
Soft Cell,
Janne Schatter,
The Toasters,
Suburban Knight,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kerri Chandler,
Khruangbin,
The Music Machine,
Popol Vuh,
MDC,
Little Man,
The Trojans,
Alice Coltrane,
Subhumans,
The Fire Engines,
Josef K,
Johnny Clarke,
Franke,
The Golliwogs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
L. Decosne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Matthew Bourne,
48th St. Collective,
Henry Cow,
Terry Callier,
Desert Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Raincoats,
Groovy Waters,
A Certain Ratio,
La Düsseldorf,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Five Americans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brick,
Brothers Johnson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
One Last Wish,
T. Rex,
Chris Corsano,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
H. Thieme,
Easy Going,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.