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 Algeria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ossler to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Angry Samoans,
The Neon Judgement,
Skriet,
Fela Kuti,
Nik Kershaw,
The J.B.'s,
Warren Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
Ornette Coleman,
Rekid,
Popol Vuh,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pere Ubu,
James White and The Blacks,
Television,
The Music Machine,
Blossom Toes,
The Cure,
Yellowson,
Sugar Minott,
Outsiders,
The Fortunes,
Todd Rundgren,
Fatback Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Blancmange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Cale,
MDC,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Archie Shepp,
Kurtis Blow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Procol Harum,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pierre Henry,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fall,
Mandrill,
Cymande,
Reuben Wilson,
Isaac Hayes,
World's Most,
Fat Boys,
Au Pairs,
Kayak,
Fluxion,
The Names,
Althea and Donna,
Shoche,
Rapeman,
The Trojans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Darondo,
Eric Dolphy,
Gabor Szabo,
Malaria!,
The Kinks,
The American Breed,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suicide,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.