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 Russia and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bob Dylan to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Lydon,
Crooked Eye,
T. Rex,
Theoretical Girls,
Faust,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oblivians,
Reuben Wilson,
AZ,
Severed Heads,
Chris Corsano,
The Buckinghams,
MC5,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dead C,
Ludus,
CMW,
Arab on Radar,
Arcadia,
Lindisfarne,
Surgeon,
DJ Style,
MDC,
Los Fastidios,
Prince Buster,
Suicide,
Harmonia,
The Evens,
The American Breed,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Outsiders,
Fela Kuti,
Scientists,
8 Eyed Spy,
Byron Stingily,
Moss Icon,
Bang On A Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Reagan Youth,
Magma,
Danielle Patucci,
B.T. Express,
Joe Finger,
Gil Scott Heron,
L. Decosne,
Dennis Brown,
Black Moon,
Ten City,
The Victims,
Eve St. Jones,
The Selecter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Juan Atkins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.