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 Turkey and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the techno 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Smog,
Minor Threat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Derrick May,
One Last Wish,
In Retrospect,
Blancmange,
The Residents,
Franke,
Carl Craig,
Gang Starr,
Stiv Bators,
Man Parrish,
The Saints,
Radiohead,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Grey Daturas,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Gories,
The Beau Brummels,
Sarah Menescal,
Terry Callier,
Supertramp,
Cheater Slicks,
Leonard Cohen,
Intrusion,
The Slackers,
Don Cherry,
Hashim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ornette Coleman,
the Sonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Robert Hood,
Judy Mowatt,
Television,
Drexciya,
The Velvet Underground,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radiopuhelimet,
Symarip,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nik Kershaw,
The Misunderstood,
Yazoo,
The Happenings,
Amon Düül,
The Fuzztones,
The Stooges,
The Mummies,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Los Fastidios,
Eric Copeland,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.