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 Liechtenstein and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Robert Palmer 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 Sandy B to the techno 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Kas Product,
Rufus Thomas,
Bill Near,
Quadrant,
Blossom Toes,
Graham Central Station,
Second Layer,
Morten Harket,
Fad Gadget,
The Slits,
Rekid,
Altered Images,
Maurizio,
Whodini,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Holt,
Rod Modell,
Fat Boys,
The Raincoats,
Wolf Eyes,
Alison Limerick,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brand Nubian,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Lydon,
Grey Daturas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Reed,
Sister Nancy,
Minutemen,
Tomorrow,
Zero Boys,
Radio Birdman,
B.T. Express,
Nils Olav,
John Cale,
Soulsonic Force,
Marvin Gaye,
Bauhaus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Boogie Down Productions,
Prince Buster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Severed Heads,
The United States of America,
Bang On A Can,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Cowsills,
The Cramps,
These Immortal Souls,
Q and Not U,
Model 500,
Drexciya,
Clear Light,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marine Girls,
Nas,
The Gories,
Neil Young,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.