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 Sudan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Surgeon to the grunge 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Ponytail,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Invisible,
Public Enemy,
June of 44,
Lower 48,
The Golliwogs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flash Fearless,
Ten City,
The Grass Roots,
Idris Muhammad,
Lindisfarne,
Sonic Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camouflage,
Amon Düül,
Parry Music,
Drexciya,
The Tremeloes,
the Soft Cell,
Chrome,
The Toasters,
Dawn Penn,
Lebanon Hanover,
Heaven 17,
Sister Nancy,
The Seeds,
X-Ray Spex,
Isaac Hayes,
The Beau Brummels,
Fear,
The Trojans,
Rosa Yemen,
Cluster,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Drive Like Jehu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Buckinghams,
Barrington Levy,
The Fall,
Brothers Johnson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aural Exciters,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cowsills,
Angry Samoans,
Lucky Dragons,
The Durutti Column,
Soul II Soul,
Subhumans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Slits,
Lightning Bolt,
Jacob Miller,
The Cure,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.