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 Somalia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eurythmics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dark Day,
Fat Boys,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Qualms,
John Coltrane,
Hasil Adkins,
Skriet,
Jacob Miller,
Davy DMX,
Boredoms,
Boz Scaggs,
The Star Department,
Marc Almond,
Das Ding,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pagans,
Wolf Eyes,
LL Cool J,
Gang Green,
Tres Demented,
X-102,
Quantec,
The Fuzztones,
Organ,
John Lydon,
Visage,
Roy Ayers,
Brothers Johnson,
The Neon Judgement,
La Düsseldorf,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kayak,
Amazonics,
Lou Reed,
The Skatalites,
Jawbox,
Warsaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roger Hodgson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
T. Rex,
The Electric Prunes,
Cheater Slicks,
Inner City,
Gichy Dan,
Godley & Creme,
The United States of America,
The Gories,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eurythmics,
Alice Coltrane,
The Stooges,
Delta 5,
Man Parrish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Desert Stars,
Joyce Sims,
The Walker Brothers,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.