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 Fiji 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jeff Lynne 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Make Up,
Fluxion,
Josef K,
John Cale,
Pulsallama,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gil Scott Heron,
Suicide,
June of 44,
Johnny Clarke,
The Barracudas,
Dave Gahan,
The Gap Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Outsiders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bad Manners,
The Divine Comedy,
Albert Ayler,
Girls At Our Best!,
Isaac Hayes,
Wire,
World's Most,
A Certain Ratio,
Procol Harum,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joyce Sims,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Interpol,
The Gun Club,
Yusef Lateef,
Von Mondo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
Man Parrish,
Max Romeo,
T.S.O.L.,
Parry Music,
David Bowie,
Absolute Body Control,
Scrapy,
Underground Resistance,
Guru Guru,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Order,
Joensuu 1685,
Suburban Knight,
Inner City,
Connie Case,
Lee Hazlewood,
Slave,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Los Fastidios,
Television Personalities,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Boz Scaggs,
Alton Ellis,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.