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 Tunisia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joey Negro 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Goldenarms,
Subhumans,
Ohio Players,
Byron Stingily,
Fat Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Juan Atkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joyce Sims,
Sun Ra,
The Dead C,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Womack,
B.T. Express,
D'Angelo,
Iggy Pop,
Q65,
Yellowson,
Todd Rundgren,
Kurtis Blow,
Half Japanese,
Max Romeo,
Malaria!,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barry Ungar,
The Walker Brothers,
Michelle Simonal,
X-101,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wolf Eyes,
Soul II Soul,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blancmange,
Anakelly,
Minutemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sixth Finger,
Cal Tjader,
Eurythmics,
Soft Cell,
L. Decosne,
The Last Poets,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Slackers,
Bobby Sherman,
The Human League,
The Red Krayola,
Organ,
Toni Rubio,
Robert Görl,
Zapp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rosa Yemen,
Brand Nubian,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gabor Szabo,
Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.