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 Panama and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Public Image Ltd. to the funk 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
10cc,
The United States of America,
Rapeman,
The Sonics,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Banda Bassotti,
Swell Maps,
David Bowie,
The Associates,
E-Dancer,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Al Stewart,
One Last Wish,
Robert Wyatt,
Pole,
Leonard Cohen,
Grauzone,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gong,
H. Thieme,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Deepchord,
Jacob Miller,
The Slits,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soft Machine,
Piero Umiliani,
Barry Ungar,
Excepter,
Cameo,
Neu!,
Mark Hollis,
Henry Cow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang On A Can,
the Normal,
Mr. Review,
Interpol,
Shuggie Otis,
Guru Guru,
The Victims,
X-101,
Susan Cadogan,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Blues Magoos,
Joensuu 1685,
Liliput,
Scrapy,
The Raincoats,
Agitation Free,
The Neon Judgement,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Joyce Sims,
Country Teasers,
The Durutti Column,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Procol Harum,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.