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 Guyana and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Sheep to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pierre Henry,
Harry Pussy,
The American Breed,
Al Stewart,
Minny Pops,
Dual Sessions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Organ,
Stiv Bators,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sound,
Ponytail,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Derrick May,
The Dead C,
The Count Five,
Unrelated Segments,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed,
Main Source,
Schoolly D,
The Fire Engines,
OOIOO,
Make Up,
Kenny Larkin,
The Music Machine,
the Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
Andrew Hill,
Mo-Dettes,
Darondo,
Khruangbin,
One Last Wish,
Bronski Beat,
The Misunderstood,
Marmalade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gladiators,
The Barracudas,
Scion,
Kas Product,
Barry Ungar,
Neil Young,
Glenn Branca,
Inner City,
The Invisible,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tres Demented,
Tomorrow,
Japan,
These Immortal Souls,
Ice-T,
Barbara Tucker,
Anthony Braxton,
Pet Shop Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.