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 Peru and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Foxx to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Hoover,
Warsaw,
Deakin,
Scientists,
Tomorrow,
Althea and Donna,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
This Heat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
X-Ray Spex,
Carl Craig,
Kaleidoscope,
Laurel Aitken,
The Dirtbombs,
Spoonie Gee,
Dennis Brown,
Alison Limerick,
Sight & Sound,
Bob Dylan,
World's Most,
The Zeros,
Public Enemy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bush Tetras,
Neu!,
L. Decosne,
The Five Americans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Davy DMX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Donald Byrd,
Boredoms,
Grey Daturas,
Matthew Bourne,
Janne Schatter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Red Krayola,
Porter Ricks,
Brothers Johnson,
Make Up,
Echospace,
Niagra,
Nirvana,
Agent Orange,
Con Funk Shun,
Cameo,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Buckinghams,
John Lydon,
Fat Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Talk Talk,
Cal Tjader,
Malaria!,
the Sonics,
Lower 48,
Heaven 17,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.