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 Kiribati and from Portland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Banda Bassotti to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Massinfluence,
The Moleskins,
cv313,
Mo-Dettes,
Parry Music,
Throbbing Gristle,
ABC,
Basic Channel,
Accadde A,
The Dirtbombs,
The Monks,
Laurel Aitken,
48th St. Collective,
Barrington Levy,
The Victims,
Dave Gahan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grauzone,
Hoover,
Audionom,
The Dave Clark Five,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Robert Hood,
The Slits,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The J.B.'s,
T. Rex,
Organ,
The Fortunes,
Al Stewart,
Marine Girls,
Electric Prunes,
The Stooges,
Boz Scaggs,
Swell Maps,
H. Thieme,
Ten City,
Kenny Larkin,
Agitation Free,
Eddi Front,
Kas Product,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mr. Review,
Darondo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Goldenarms,
The Sound,
Robert Wyatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funky Four + One,
Erykah Badu,
Scott Walker,
David McCallum,
Liliput,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
ABBA,
Animal Collective,
the Fania All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.