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 Bolivia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Cymande to the crunk 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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oblivians,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gang Green,
Ponytail,
the Soft Cell,
The Doors,
This Heat,
PIL,
Leonard Cohen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Buckinghams,
Pussy Galore,
Scratch Acid,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
China Crisis,
Gerry Rafferty,
K-Klass,
Kool Moe Dee,
Terry Callier,
the Normal,
Severed Heads,
Sugar Minott,
The Birthday Party,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ossler,
New York Dolls,
Juan Atkins,
Joe Smooth,
Dark Day,
The Wake,
Dorothy Ashby,
Organ,
Symarip,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Das Ding,
Jandek,
Quantec,
Icehouse,
Porter Ricks,
Bush Tetras,
the Association,
New Age Steppers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mission of Burma,
Cluster,
Little Man,
Ultravox,
The Move,
Marc Almond,
Mr. Review,
The Beau Brummels,
Niagra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Television,
Gong,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ludus,
Echospace,
The Cure,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.