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 Monaco and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Danielle Patucci to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Lou Reed,
Suburban Knight,
Boredoms,
Ohio Players,
CMW,
Hoover,
Aswad,
Rites of Spring,
F. McDonald,
Anthony Braxton,
Agent Orange,
Sällskapet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Dolphy,
Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Prince Buster,
Nik Kershaw,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Yazoo,
Idris Muhammad,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
The Neon Judgement,
Laurel Aitken,
Dead Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bill Wells,
Buzzcocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Drexciya,
The Gladiators,
Eli Mardock,
a-ha,
Tomorrow,
The Names,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tubeway Army,
Lucky Dragons,
Kayak,
Harpers Bizarre,
Newcleus,
Black Bananas,
Unrelated Segments,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Los Fastidios,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Steve Hackett,
Ronnie Foster,
Harmonia,
Echospace,
Nation of Ulysses,
Janne Schatter,
Ken Boothe,
New York Dolls,
Black Sheep,
Black Pus,
The Martian,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.