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 Palau and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Holger Czukay 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the grunge 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sound Behaviour,
Piero Umiliani,
Jacob Miller,
Wolf Eyes,
Electric Prunes,
Quantec,
Ash Ra Tempel,
KRS-One,
the Human League,
Ornette Coleman,
The Martian,
A Certain Ratio,
James White and The Blacks,
The Count Five,
Gong,
Steve Hackett,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deepchord,
Monolake,
Neu!,
Minor Threat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Graham Central Station,
Simply Red,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dead Boys,
the Normal,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Absolute Body Control,
Ituana,
The Young Rascals,
Bang On A Can,
Scott Walker,
Lee Hazlewood,
Quadrant,
The Blues Magoos,
Liliput,
Cal Tjader,
the Association,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sonic Youth,
Lou Christie,
Warsaw,
Connie Case,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eurythmics,
T.S.O.L.,
Faraquet,
Mark Hollis,
Qualms,
Sällskapet,
Derrick May,
The Tremeloes,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.