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 Zambia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Raincoats to the grunge 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks 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?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rapeman,
The Star Department,
Ornette Coleman,
Minny Pops,
Andrew Hill,
Patti Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Raincoats,
Bluetip,
Ice-T,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
LL Cool J,
China Crisis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cybotron,
The United States of America,
Pantaleimon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Camberwell Now,
Main Source,
The Divine Comedy,
Leonard Cohen,
Yusef Lateef,
Can,
Judy Mowatt,
Connie Case,
Mr. Review,
Laurel Aitken,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Foxx,
The Beau Brummels,
Lightning Bolt,
Alton Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
Soul Sonic Force,
Popol Vuh,
Infiniti,
Gerry Rafferty,
Au Pairs,
The Motions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Albert Ayler,
The J.B.'s,
John Cale,
Unrelated Segments,
The Skatalites,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sonny Sharrock,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dark Day,
Marvin Gaye,
The Flesh Eaters,
Godley & Creme,
Reagan Youth,
Dave Gahan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ronnie Foster,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.