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 Guinea-Bissau and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Gong 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Banda Bassotti,
The Selecter,
Black Pus,
Altered Images,
Nick Fraelich,
Hot Snakes,
Boredoms,
Babytalk,
The Buckinghams,
Lightning Bolt,
Silicon Teens,
Malaria!,
The Gun Club,
Deepchord,
Outsiders,
Easy Going,
Mr. Review,
Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Janne Schatter,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slits,
Goldenarms,
Yellowson,
Aloha Tigers,
Spoonie Gee,
Monolake,
The Cramps,
Sam Rivers,
Young Marble Giants,
Depeche Mode,
The Searchers,
Visage,
JFA,
Mars,
Can,
Arcadia,
Don Cherry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Quantec,
X-101,
Patti Smith,
The Kinks,
Ohio Players,
Camouflage,
Urselle,
Scion,
Althea and Donna,
Jerry's Kids,
Magma,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sonics,
The Zeros,
Sixth Finger,
Funky Four + One,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Symarip,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.