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 Japan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the electroclash 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Mantronix,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Wyatt,
Sun Ra,
Q65,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
F. McDonald,
Davy DMX,
New Age Steppers,
Vainqueur,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sight & Sound,
Amazonics,
Steve Hackett,
Dual Sessions,
The Selecter,
Minutemen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marshall Jefferson,
June Days,
Ten City,
The Toasters,
The Blues Magoos,
Girls At Our Best!,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Inner City,
the Normal,
Bobby Sherman,
Flipper,
These Immortal Souls,
Crime,
The Slackers,
the Germs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barbara Tucker,
the Fania All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
Soul II Soul,
Interpol,
Lucky Dragons,
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
Eric Copeland,
Sound Behaviour,
Pantaleimon,
The Barracudas,
World's Most,
Radiopuhelimet,
David Bowie,
Idris Muhammad,
Wasted Youth,
Fat Boys,
The Young Rascals,
The Mummies,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Erykah Badu,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.