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 Yemen and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator 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 oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Procol Harum,
Agent Orange,
The Dave Clark Five,
Groovy Waters,
June Days,
Pulsallama,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scan 7,
Ossler,
Scott Walker,
The Seeds,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Frankie Knuckles,
Spandau Ballet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eden Ahbez,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
L. Decosne,
Quando Quango,
Al Stewart,
The Techniques,
Donny Hathaway,
Skriet,
Pole,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Sheep,
Goldenarms,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Dirtbombs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Happenings,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
Kaleidoscope,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fear,
Magma,
Freddie Wadling,
Kool Moe Dee,
Liliput,
Tears for Fears,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxette,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Thee Headcoats,
Steve Hackett,
Jesper Dahlback,
Can,
Minutemen,
Babytalk,
The Index,
Arcadia,
Cameo,
X-102,
Sandy B,
Oblivians,
The Cramps,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.