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 East Timor and from Copenhagen.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Monks to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
The Trojans,
Curtis Mayfield,
June of 44,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Vogues,
Trumans Water,
Cymande,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zapp,
Shoche,
The Dave Clark Five,
Shuggie Otis,
Mo-Dettes,
Ken Boothe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
Hot Snakes,
Television Personalities,
Gang Green,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eddi Front,
Crispian St. Peters,
Spandau Ballet,
Gichy Dan,
X-101,
Mary Jane Girls,
Quando Quango,
The Barracudas,
Todd Terry,
F. McDonald,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Offenders,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Swans,
Ice-T,
Aloha Tigers,
Flipper,
The Velvet Underground,
Roxy Music,
Aswad,
Saccharine Trust,
Con Funk Shun,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kaleidoscope,
Freddie Wadling,
This Heat,
Harry Pussy,
UT,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Germs,
Ohio Players,
The Durutti Column,
Fat Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang of Four,
Fatback Band,
Andrew Hill,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.