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 Zimbabwe and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fatback Band to the funk 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light 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?
KRS-One,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Golliwogs,
Pagans,
Procol Harum,
The Electric Prunes,
Ronnie Foster,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dual Sessions,
Shoche,
Icehouse,
MDC,
kango's stein massive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hasil Adkins,
Jawbox,
David Bowie,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Qualms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Certain Ratio,
Maurizio,
Fatback Band,
The Names,
John Coltrane,
Barry Ungar,
Warren Ellis,
David Axelrod,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jimmy McGriff,
X-102,
Sound Behaviour,
The Real Kids,
the Human League,
The Tremeloes,
Gang of Four,
Gang Starr,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cluster,
Zero Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Stooges,
Black Bananas,
Joy Division,
The Fuzztones,
Urselle,
Bluetip,
Pierre Henry,
Infiniti,
Al Stewart,
Lightning Bolt,
Reagan Youth,
Suicide,
Organ,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeff Mills,
Severed Heads,
The Motions,
The Moody Blues,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.