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 Gabon 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar 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 John Holt to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The J.B.'s,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Searchers,
Country Teasers,
The Victims,
Agitation Free,
Absolute Body Control,
Juan Atkins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dirtbombs,
Jandek,
Fluxion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cheater Slicks,
Neu!,
Dawn Penn,
Maurizio,
DJ Sneak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Siglo XX,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flamin' Groovies,
Graham Central Station,
X-102,
Scrapy,
Davy DMX,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blancmange,
Roxette,
Ludus,
The American Breed,
The United States of America,
Eric Copeland,
Nik Kershaw,
John Lydon,
ABC,
Symarip,
Essential Logic,
David McCallum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
U.S. Maple,
Lakeside,
Crash Course in Science,
Monolake,
Wire,
Ituana,
Average White Band,
Sister Nancy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hot Snakes,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.