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 Zimbabwe and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Grey Daturas 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Iggy Pop,
The Victims,
Dennis Brown,
Nas,
The Mojo Men,
Procol Harum,
Accadde A,
Wolf Eyes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Invisible,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radio Birdman,
Das Ding,
Slick Rick,
Newcleus,
The Remains,
New Age Steppers,
Pulsallama,
Hoover,
Young Marble Giants,
The Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
The Gories,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
Todd Rundgren,
Yellowson,
Dead Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Busters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Goldenarms,
Negative Approach,
Eddi Front,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Reagan Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Theoretical Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
Mr. Review,
Stiv Bators,
Josef K,
Michelle Simonal,
The American Breed,
The Walker Brothers,
Shuggie Otis,
Spoonie Gee,
Ken Boothe,
Q65,
Andrew Hill,
Glambeats Corp.,
Can,
Desert Stars,
Organ,
Minnie Riperton,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare,
Altered Images,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.