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 Syria and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Pantytec,
Bill Near,
Skriet,
Skaos,
The Count Five,
The Cramps,
New York Dolls,
The Slits,
Scott Walker,
The Blues Magoos,
Outsiders,
Todd Rundgren,
Boredoms,
Minny Pops,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wasted Youth,
June Days,
Wings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spoonie Gee,
Cameo,
The Motions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronan,
The Sonics,
FM Einheit,
Johnny Osbourne,
X-Ray Spex,
The Victims,
Goldenarms,
Q and Not U,
Negative Approach,
Archie Shepp,
Eden Ahbez,
Flipper,
The Monochrome Set,
Con Funk Shun,
Circle Jerks,
Henry Cow,
Scion,
Alice Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aaron Thompson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Guru Guru,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arab on Radar,
Jacques Brel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hashim,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Television,
Grauzone,
Magma,
Lou Christie,
Ituana,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fall,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.