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 Czech Republic and from Manila.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Blancmange to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Rapeman,
Skriet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Infiniti,
Vainqueur,
The Beau Brummels,
The Durutti Column,
Joe Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
Brick,
Swans,
Cluster,
Mr. Review,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Flash Fearless,
Maurizio,
Sam Rivers,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gories,
The Pretty Things,
Unwound,
New Order,
The Blackbyrds,
Kurtis Blow,
Judy Mowatt,
The Mummies,
Albert Ayler,
The Seeds,
June Days,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Prunes,
Ludus,
Quadrant,
The Cowsills,
Metal Thangz,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Robert Görl,
a-ha,
The Victims,
Black Flag,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Toasters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stetsasonic,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare,
Black Bananas,
Interpol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Anthony Braxton,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
JFA,
Tres Demented,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Country Teasers,
The Neon Judgement,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Juan Atkins,
Joyce Sims,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.