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 Jordan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Theoretical Girls to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Jimmy McGriff,
Main Source,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Saints,
DNA,
Parry Music,
A Certain Ratio,
Magma,
Joyce Sims,
Kenny Larkin,
The Five Americans,
Scion,
Wally Richardson,
Masters at Work,
Siglo XX,
Talk Talk,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Normal,
Peter & Gordon,
Infiniti,
Dead Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reagan Youth,
Cameo,
Spoonie Gee,
Bush Tetras,
John Foxx,
Mad Mike,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doors,
Wire,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gun Club,
Babytalk,
Fugazi,
The Martian,
Television Personalities,
The Fire Engines,
Sällskapet,
Tim Buckley,
Anthony Braxton,
Von Mondo,
Soft Machine,
E-Dancer,
Jawbox,
The Count Five,
The Blues Magoos,
X-101,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Moody Blues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Drive Like Jehu,
Khruangbin,
Drexciya,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.