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 Sudan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Michael McDonald 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 Dark Day to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
the Association,
Barbara Tucker,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül II,
Average White Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Joyce Sims,
the Normal,
Scrapy,
Ludus,
The Fall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mr. Review,
Tres Demented,
Nik Kershaw,
Skriet,
Yazoo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hasil Adkins,
La Düsseldorf,
The Move,
The Star Department,
Lalo Schifrin,
Heaven 17,
Kayak,
Eden Ahbez,
Neu!,
Patti Smith,
The Evens,
The Standells,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ronan,
Crooked Eye,
E-Dancer,
Amazonics,
Lightning Bolt,
Tears for Fears,
Fad Gadget,
The Buckinghams,
Kas Product,
Stereo Dub,
Alice Coltrane,
Das Ding,
Radio Birdman,
Juan Atkins,
Clear Light,
Harry Pussy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Duran Duran,
China Crisis,
Urselle,
Spandau Ballet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Sheep,
The American Breed,
Gichy Dan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.