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 Tunisia and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 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 Boogie Down Productions to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Babytalk,
Skarface,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Spoonie Gee,
The Beau Brummels,
The Barracudas,
PIL,
Black Sheep,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nico,
New York Dolls,
Hoover,
Andrew Hill,
Severed Heads,
Dead Boys,
The Fall,
The Monochrome Set,
John Coltrane,
Lyres,
Black Pus,
Monks,
Juan Atkins,
The Blackbyrds,
Cluster,
Lou Christie,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quando Quango,
Technova,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mars,
Darondo,
Warsaw,
Sparks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roxy Music,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fortunes,
Delta 5,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers,
Moby Grape,
Quantec,
Barrington Levy,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gap Band,
the Human League,
Sight & Sound,
Mantronix,
Banda Bassotti,
Godley & Creme,
Dennis Brown,
The Grass Roots,
Gang of Four,
Blancmange,
Ultra Naté,
The Slits,
K-Klass,
Lou Reed,
Rosa Yemen,
Buzzcocks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.