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 Serbia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Rufus Thomas to the grunge 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
Barry Ungar,
Q65,
Los Fastidios,
Bronski Beat,
Maurizio,
Freddie Wadling,
Amazonics,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neu!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Von Mondo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scrapy,
The Tremeloes,
Groovy Waters,
The Red Krayola,
Hot Snakes,
Stetsasonic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fugs,
F. McDonald,
DNA,
Junior Murvin,
Funky Four + One,
Deadbeat,
Con Funk Shun,
John Foxx,
The Pop Group,
Sonny Sharrock,
Derrick May,
Television,
Idris Muhammad,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nico,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
10cc,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Normal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dead Boys,
the Germs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Piero Umiliani,
Symarip,
Mantronix,
The Fuzztones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tres Demented,
Swans,
The American Breed,
Eric Dolphy,
China Crisis,
The Real Kids,
Silicon Teens,
Dawn Penn,
Delta 5,
Goldenarms,
48th St. Collective,
Wasted Youth,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.