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 Tonga and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Suicide to the rock 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 Wake. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound 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?
Sun City Girls,
Cymande,
Porter Ricks,
Mr. Review,
The Stooges,
The Slackers,
A Certain Ratio,
Brick,
The Saints,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Barracudas,
Suicide,
Yusef Lateef,
The Neon Judgement,
Moebius,
Terry Callier,
Sparks,
Urselle,
Rotary Connection,
the Human League,
Section 25,
World's Most,
Letta Mbulu,
Depeche Mode,
Clear Light,
The Gun Club,
Gang of Four,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Association,
Drexciya,
Groovy Waters,
Mark Hollis,
The Star Department,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sex Pistols,
Howard Jones,
Robert Görl,
John Coltrane,
Black Flag,
Circle Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heaven 17,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
David Bowie,
The Mummies,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Funky Four + One,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Outsiders,
Gabor Szabo,
The Modern Lovers,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pole,
The Busters,
Skarface,
F. McDonald,
Roxette,
The Pretty Things,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.