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 Algeria and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Surgeon to the dance 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Skaos,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
JFA,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Görl,
Morten Harket,
U.S. Maple,
Byron Stingily,
L. Decosne,
Second Layer,
Ultra Naté,
Public Image Ltd.,
Underground Resistance,
Boredoms,
The Knickerbockers,
Fear,
Loose Ends,
Buzzcocks,
Funkadelic,
Judy Mowatt,
Crash Course in Science,
Warsaw,
Grandmaster Flash,
The New Christs,
Connie Case,
Supertramp,
Bill Near,
Newcleus,
Wings,
The Zeros,
The Index,
The J.B.'s,
Scientists,
Black Flag,
Slick Rick,
Schoolly D,
Magazine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rhythm & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
DJ Style,
Ronan,
Cymande,
Camberwell Now,
Joe Smooth,
Bootsy Collins,
the Swans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Letta Mbulu,
Urselle,
Icehouse,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Searchers,
ABBA,
Camouflage,
Soft Cell,
Chris & Cosey,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.