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 San Marino and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes 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 Blake Baxter to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mo-Dettes,
Massinfluence,
Whodini,
Graham Central Station,
Angry Samoans,
The Slackers,
Tim Buckley,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Leonard Cohen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marmalade,
The Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Make Up,
Magma,
Ronan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dawn Penn,
The Happenings,
Schoolly D,
DNA,
Stockholm Monsters,
Circle Jerks,
Chris & Cosey,
Arab on Radar,
The Raincoats,
Ludus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
10cc,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul II Soul,
June Days,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fortunes,
The Selecter,
Half Japanese,
Archie Shepp,
Eurythmics,
Junior Murvin,
Crime,
Nik Kershaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arcadia,
JFA,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mars,
The Moleskins,
Bang On A Can,
Idris Muhammad,
Fela Kuti,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Pop Group,
Fad Gadget,
Fat Boys,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Music Machine,
Dave Gahan,
The Remains,
EPMD,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.