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 Indonesia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Qualms,
Kas Product,
Pantaleimon,
Darondo,
Aaron Thompson,
The New Christs,
Bobby Sherman,
Suburban Knight,
Circle Jerks,
Davy DMX,
The Doors,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Bourne,
Outsiders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Trojans,
Kerri Chandler,
Godley & Creme,
Erasure,
Yazoo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Johnny Clarke,
The Smoke,
Bad Manners,
Mad Mike,
Crispian St. Peters,
Colin Newman,
Marvin Gaye,
Amon Düül II,
Reuben Wilson,
Make Up,
Henry Cow,
Scion,
Duran Duran,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Erykah Badu,
Parry Music,
Dave Gahan,
Second Layer,
Joe Finger,
Talk Talk,
The Five Americans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Susan Cadogan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roger Hodgson,
Amon Düül,
Jerry's Kids,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pierre Henry,
Brothers Johnson,
Mission of Burma,
Alphaville,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Donny Hathaway,
Agent Orange,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.