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 Kuwait and from Paris.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 Laurel Aitken to the grime 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
The Velvet Underground,
Davy DMX,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moss Icon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Massinfluence,
Bad Manners,
Cameo,
10cc,
Circle Jerks,
Schoolly D,
Animal Collective,
John Holt,
The Toasters,
Ronnie Foster,
Boredoms,
Letta Mbulu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Magma,
Lalo Schifrin,
Carl Craig,
Mr. Review,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Depeche Mode,
La Düsseldorf,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deadbeat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radiopuhelimet,
Drexciya,
Ituana,
Gang of Four,
Dawn Penn,
Guru Guru,
The Victims,
Marshall Jefferson,
Suicide,
Marmalade,
Robert Görl,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Chrome,
Fatback Band,
Lou Christie,
Camouflage,
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers,
The Modern Lovers,
David Bowie,
Surgeon,
Erasure,
The Associates,
Magazine,
the Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
Swell Maps,
Minnie Riperton,
Faust,
The Zeros,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.