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 Lesotho and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 Thompson Twins to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Radio Birdman,
The United States of America,
Pierre Henry,
Swell Maps,
The Dirtbombs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dead C,
Freddie Wadling,
Livin' Joy,
Erasure,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sonics,
Ronnie Foster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sugar Minott,
D'Angelo,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sound,
Lou Christie,
Henry Cow,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Talk Talk,
Juan Atkins,
K-Klass,
Byron Stingily,
Zapp,
Quantec,
the Association,
Gichy Dan,
Mr. Review,
Rod Modell,
Lyres,
Von Mondo,
Nirvana,
kango's stein massive,
The Fugs,
The Selecter,
Accadde A,
Althea and Donna,
Brick,
Iggy Pop,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Searchers,
The Mojo Men,
Colin Newman,
Connie Case,
AZ,
Fat Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
Flash Fearless,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.