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 Brazil and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Tim Buckley to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Michelle Simonal,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wings,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scion,
The Moleskins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jacob Miller,
Gabor Szabo,
John Coltrane,
the Swans,
F. McDonald,
Sight & Sound,
June of 44,
The Sonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Robert Görl,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gang Starr,
The Gap Band,
Camberwell Now,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Theoretical Girls,
Vainqueur,
Morten Harket,
Rekid,
R.M.O.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Oblivians,
Magazine,
Second Layer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jandek,
Ultra Naté,
Los Fastidios,
Ultravox,
Donny Hathaway,
The Saints,
The Seeds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joy Division,
Ossler,
Porter Ricks,
Crime,
Steve Hackett,
Minny Pops,
Unrelated Segments,
UT,
Royal Trux,
Half Japanese,
Sandy B,
Buzzcocks,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young,
Oneida,
Archie Shepp,
Todd Rundgren,
New Age Steppers,
The Fuzztones,
Freddie Wadling,
China Crisis,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.