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 Malawi and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb 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 Livin' Joy to the electroclash 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Amazonics,
Bill Near,
Mantronix,
In Retrospect,
the Normal,
Banda Bassotti,
Steve Hackett,
Sound Behaviour,
Absolute Body Control,
The Black Dice,
The Grass Roots,
La Düsseldorf,
Clear Light,
The Toasters,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mummies,
The Selecter,
Zero Boys,
Al Stewart,
Morten Harket,
Judy Mowatt,
Laurel Aitken,
Eden Ahbez,
Marshall Jefferson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stiv Bators,
The Evens,
Lou Reed,
DJ Style,
Marc Almond,
The Monks,
Swans,
Stereo Dub,
Tim Buckley,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Martian,
CMW,
Delon & Dalcan,
Skaos,
Yaz,
Main Source,
Vainqueur,
Ralphi Rosario,
Arab on Radar,
Audionom,
The Count Five,
Subhumans,
Blancmange,
Pole,
Aaron Thompson,
Tommy Roe,
Heaven 17,
10cc,
Depeche Mode,
Reuben Wilson,
The Durutti Column,
Dead Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.