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 Burkina and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Skriet to the jazz 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Bourne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Index,
Ten City,
Y Pants,
Scratch Acid,
Soul II Soul,
Silicon Teens,
The Victims,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bush Tetras,
David Bowie,
Don Cherry,
Idris Muhammad,
Dennis Brown,
Gerry Rafferty,
Leonard Cohen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Shoche,
Henry Cow,
a-ha,
Joey Negro,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The American Breed,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Trumans Water,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Carl Craig,
Newcleus,
Tomorrow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
KRS-One,
The Birthday Party,
Agent Orange,
Lakeside,
The Kinks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Goldenarms,
The Slits,
Deakin,
Underground Resistance,
Ornette Coleman,
These Immortal Souls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
World's Most,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Wally Richardson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Public Image Ltd.,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.