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 Bahrain and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the oboe 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 Warsaw 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Cramps,
Derrick Morgan,
The Slits,
Scientists,
The Vogues,
Pantytec,
Crispy Ambulance,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crooked Eye,
Thompson Twins,
The Birthday Party,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Spandau Ballet,
Outsiders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ten City,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kaleidoscope,
Aaron Thompson,
Unrelated Segments,
The Move,
The Moody Blues,
Nirvana,
Nick Fraelich,
H. Thieme,
Harpers Bizarre,
Loose Ends,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alphaville,
Aural Exciters,
The Names,
Eddi Front,
The Divine Comedy,
Dave Gahan,
Ultravox,
Au Pairs,
Sandy B,
Qualms,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Flag,
Patti Smith,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quadrant,
Dawn Penn,
Bad Manners,
Ossler,
Ituana,
Second Layer,
AZ,
Ronnie Foster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Al Stewart,
Rod Modell,
Excepter,
Stetsasonic,
Darondo,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.