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 Panama and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 L. Decosne to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Pantytec,
Marmalade,
Rakim,
Gang Green,
Audionom,
X-Ray Spex,
Howard Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ludus,
The Fortunes,
The Gories,
Barclay James Harvest,
Excepter,
Johnny Clarke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lucky Dragons,
T.S.O.L.,
Nils Olav,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Mars,
Amon Düül,
Country Teasers,
Silicon Teens,
Joensuu 1685,
Wasted Youth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grauzone,
Wings,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bluetip,
Quando Quango,
Quantec,
The Slackers,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker,
Newcleus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Duran Duran,
Barry Ungar,
Joe Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Average White Band,
Ohio Players,
Kayak,
Amon Düül II,
FM Einheit,
Scan 7,
K-Klass,
Bauhaus,
Black Flag,
Soul II Soul,
The Young Rascals,
B.T. Express,
Avey Tare,
Skarface,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.