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 Moldova and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Tres Demented 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
Massinfluence,
Los Fastidios,
The Smoke,
Bauhaus,
Al Stewart,
Cheater Slicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alton Ellis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Reuben Wilson,
Joey Negro,
These Immortal Souls,
The Five Americans,
U.S. Maple,
Intrusion,
The Velvet Underground,
Eurythmics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Avey Tare,
Reagan Youth,
New York Dolls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Graham Central Station,
Television,
LL Cool J,
EPMD,
Lightning Bolt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tim Buckley,
Niagra,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
FM Einheit,
Buzzcocks,
T. Rex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nils Olav,
Jacques Brel,
Maleditus Sound,
Wings,
Rapeman,
Rites of Spring,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang of Four,
Darondo,
Fear,
Leonard Cohen,
Steve Hackett,
The Misunderstood,
The Cramps,
John Cale,
The Slackers,
Colin Newman,
Fat Boys,
Nick Fraelich,
Jeff Lynne,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.