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 Philippines 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro 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 Bill Near to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Ice-T,
Joe Finger,
Gichy Dan,
Whodini,
Sex Pistols,
The Smoke,
Lungfish,
Sound Behaviour,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Durutti Column,
Lou Christie,
Lyres,
Erasure,
Monolake,
The Barracudas,
Neu!,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare,
David Bowie,
New York Dolls,
Steve Hackett,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scrapy,
Todd Terry,
Theoretical Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Lalo Schifrin,
X-101,
The Residents,
T.S.O.L.,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rekid,
Magma,
The Dead C,
Althea and Donna,
Thompson Twins,
Accadde A,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun City Girls,
The Stooges,
Spoonie Gee,
Loose Ends,
Q65,
T. Rex,
Rakim,
Shuggie Otis,
The Wake,
The Invisible,
Gregory Isaacs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doors,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.