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 Gambia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
The Cowsills,
The Doobie Brothers,
Desert Stars,
T.S.O.L.,
Banda Bassotti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
LL Cool J,
Moebius,
Robert Hood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Erasure,
This Heat,
Black Flag,
The Monochrome Set,
Junior Murvin,
David Axelrod,
Rekid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Barrington Levy,
Danielle Patucci,
Roger Hodgson,
Scrapy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marcia Griffiths,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
Average White Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Unrelated Segments,
Eric B and Rakim,
Inner City,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter and Kerry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Throbbing Gristle,
Agent Orange,
Procol Harum,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Litter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fatback Band,
Swans,
Bobby Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dave Gahan,
Kenny Larkin,
The Martian,
Ponytail,
Colin Newman,
Wings,
The Durutti Column,
Arab on Radar,
Monks,
Ultravox,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.