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 Nigeria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 T.S.O.L. to the rock 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Newcleus,
Kas Product,
Albert Ayler,
Deadbeat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Golliwogs,
Swell Maps,
The Modern Lovers,
The Pretty Things,
One Last Wish,
The Mojo Men,
Gastr Del Sol,
Shoche,
Arthur Verocai,
Kurtis Blow,
Bill Wells,
Jacob Miller,
DNA,
Second Layer,
Lalann,
Joyce Sims,
Flamin' Groovies,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tom Boy,
Agitation Free,
The Gories,
Franke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Barracudas,
Unrelated Segments,
the Germs,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Skatalites,
Schoolly D,
David Axelrod,
Tomorrow,
Tim Buckley,
Mo-Dettes,
Main Source,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Electric Prunes,
Ohio Players,
Maurizio,
Avey Tare,
Ronan,
Crooked Eye,
FM Einheit,
The Leaves,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ituana,
Matthew Halsall,
Terry Callier,
Bauhaus,
Popol Vuh,
John Coltrane,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.