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 Uganda and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Arthur Verocai 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Pus,
Todd Rundgren,
Fad Gadget,
The Doobie Brothers,
Underground Resistance,
Tres Demented,
Index,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeff Mills,
Johnny Clarke,
Byron Stingily,
Royal Trux,
Warsaw,
Au Pairs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Shuggie Otis,
Swans,
Davy DMX,
Susan Cadogan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Livin' Joy,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Electric Prunes,
The Buckinghams,
Desert Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The United States of America,
The Toasters,
the Association,
Lalo Schifrin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dennis Brown,
The Cowsills,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Slick Rick,
Aswad,
Absolute Body Control,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Crime,
Eve St. Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Count Five,
Adolescents,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Quando Quango,
Hardrive,
Delta 5,
Lower 48,
The Neon Judgement,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
T.S.O.L.,
Tears for Fears,
Scientists,
Sugar Minott,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.