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 Cape Verde and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba 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 Gang Green to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James White and The Blacks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marshall Jefferson,
Average White Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
The Doobie Brothers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rekid,
The Monks,
Severed Heads,
Lyres,
Loose Ends,
Reuben Wilson,
Sound Behaviour,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Sherman,
Bootsy Collins,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sällskapet,
The Seeds,
The Dirtbombs,
Davy DMX,
Clear Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Bananas,
Tommy Roe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Throbbing Gristle,
Whodini,
Anthony Braxton,
Dark Day,
The Saints,
Reagan Youth,
the Sonics,
Joey Negro,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Moody Blues,
Magma,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marine Girls,
Crash Course in Science,
Joensuu 1685,
Rites of Spring,
Malaria!,
The Toasters,
The Walker Brothers,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacob Miller,
The Trojans,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Names,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.