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 Romania and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 The Grass Roots to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Fluxion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roy Ayers,
Derrick Morgan,
Joensuu 1685,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Christie,
The Blues Magoos,
Piero Umiliani,
Skaos,
Fat Boys,
Prince Buster,
Terrestrial Tones,
Trumans Water,
The Searchers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ronan,
Pere Ubu,
the Bar-Kays,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Junior Murvin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scientists,
James White and The Blacks,
Unrelated Segments,
Con Funk Shun,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy Collins,
Gong,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Matthew Halsall,
Jawbox,
Yusef Lateef,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Y Pants,
John Foxx,
Cybotron,
a-ha,
In Retrospect,
Slave,
Grey Daturas,
Symarip,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Last Poets,
UT,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Theoretical Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cure,
Robert Görl,
Sonny Sharrock,
Traffic Nightmare,
Charles Mingus,
Black Sheep,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.