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 Denmark and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Main Source to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Scott Walker,
The J.B.'s,
Wally Richardson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jacob Miller,
The Star Department,
Television Personalities,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sex Pistols,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Boogie Down Productions,
a-ha,
Altered Images,
Mission of Burma,
Ultra Naté,
Malaria!,
Aloha Tigers,
Half Japanese,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bizarre Inc.,
Monks,
The Fire Engines,
Moss Icon,
Urselle,
Joey Negro,
MC5,
David Axelrod,
Bauhaus,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slackers,
The Searchers,
Mo-Dettes,
Hot Snakes,
The Kinks,
The Mojo Men,
The Cure,
The Seeds,
Carl Craig,
The Modern Lovers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Prince Buster,
Rakim,
Terry Callier,
Hardrive,
Shoche,
Erykah Badu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Heaven 17,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry Gold Smith,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Divine Comedy,
Sight & Sound,
Model 500,
The Cowsills,
Technova,
Colin Newman,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.