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 Zambia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eve St. Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Ultra Naté,
Liliput,
Pierre Henry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Metal Thangz,
Electric Prunes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Easy Going,
The Golliwogs,
Suicide,
Aswad,
Dorothy Ashby,
Subhumans,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kayak,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Halsall,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Standells,
Buzzcocks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Los Fastidios,
The Move,
Vainqueur,
Rod Modell,
The Pop Group,
Franke,
Howard Jones,
John Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
Rites of Spring,
Stereo Dub,
The Monks,
Judy Mowatt,
Bluetip,
The Durutti Column,
Janne Schatter,
Dead Boys,
Scan 7,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arthur Verocai,
Ituana,
Tres Demented,
Boogie Down Productions,
Clear Light,
DJ Style,
Public Enemy,
Fluxion,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Parrish,
Ponytail,
Quadrant,
Pantytec,
Davy DMX,
Drexciya,
Qualms,
The Beau Brummels,
Idris Muhammad,
China Crisis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.