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 Iceland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Boz Scaggs to the punk 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Skriet,
Barrington Levy,
Lyres,
Roxette,
Procol Harum,
Camberwell Now,
Section 25,
B.T. Express,
Siglo XX,
Juan Atkins,
ABC,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Victims,
The Sound,
Metal Thangz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Goldenarms,
Mad Mike,
Roy Ayers,
Sarah Menescal,
Lungfish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bill Wells,
The Motions,
The Gun Club,
The American Breed,
Howard Jones,
DJ Style,
Rapeman,
Second Layer,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cramps,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pylon,
Sällskapet,
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus,
Livin' Joy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rotary Connection,
The Residents,
Ultra Naté,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Faraquet,
The Golliwogs,
Todd Rundgren,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Darondo,
Erasure,
Guru Guru,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Heaven 17,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Icehouse,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eurythmics,
Moebius,
Little Man,
Jeff Mills,
Basic Channel,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.