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 St Lucia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Tom Verlaine 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bush Tetras,
Saccharine Trust,
Flipper,
Yusef Lateef,
Janne Schatter,
Junior Murvin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Royal Trux,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
Boz Scaggs,
Trumans Water,
Soulsonic Force,
MDC,
Absolute Body Control,
Donny Hathaway,
Radio Birdman,
The New Christs,
Agitation Free,
New Age Steppers,
The Pretty Things,
Surgeon,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Bar-Kays,
The Five Americans,
The Sonics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tres Demented,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joe Smooth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
Procol Harum,
Soft Machine,
Theoretical Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Negative Approach,
Harry Pussy,
Darondo,
K-Klass,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nas,
Alton Ellis,
DJ Sneak,
Dave Gahan,
Bauhaus,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
Ludus,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
Eurythmics,
Stiv Bators,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quantec,
Lyres,
Shoche,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.