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 Georgia and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 The Happenings to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bob Dylan,
Dennis Brown,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Quando Quango,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fuzztones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Henry Cow,
Hashim,
Theoretical Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Amon Düül,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ken Boothe,
Pierre Henry,
Erykah Badu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Loose Ends,
Iggy Pop,
the Association,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anakelly,
48th St. Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sex Pistols,
The Blues Magoos,
Soft Cell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
Khruangbin,
The Cowsills,
Tim Buckley,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Howard Jones,
Porter Ricks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Slick Rick,
Maurizio,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radiohead,
The Fire Engines,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Freddie Wadling,
Heaven 17,
Q and Not U,
Judy Mowatt,
The Modern Lovers,
the Bar-Kays,
Supertramp,
8 Eyed Spy,
Byron Stingily,
Thee Headcoats,
H. Thieme,
The Raincoats,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.