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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro 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 Buckinghams to the rap 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
Schoolly D,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bluetip,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
Y Pants,
Cecil Taylor,
Harry Pussy,
Janne Schatter,
The Seeds,
Ultra Naté,
David Bowie,
Pagans,
Minnie Riperton,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Adolescents,
Theoretical Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Infiniti,
Iggy Pop,
Average White Band,
Quando Quango,
Nas,
The Doors,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Sonics,
The Blues Magoos,
Pere Ubu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Das Ding,
Technova,
Gang Green,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Urselle,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
X-101,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Barracudas,
Television,
Malaria!,
Deakin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Real Kids,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Görl,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
a-ha,
Liliput,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sister Nancy,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.