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 Nepal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Cal Tjader to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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?
F. McDonald,
Fat Boys,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
KRS-One,
Funky Four + One,
The Remains,
The Fugs,
ABBA,
Cymande,
Bauhaus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ludus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cal Tjader,
Yaz,
Fela Kuti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Public Enemy,
The Fall,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
Curtis Mayfield,
Magazine,
Make Up,
Lungfish,
Rekid,
The Skatalites,
The Smiths,
Hashim,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oblivians,
Ituana,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boredoms,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Offenders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Royal Trux,
Yazoo,
The Golliwogs,
Q65,
Sixth Finger,
X-Ray Spex,
Jandek,
Aural Exciters,
Brothers Johnson,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Görl,
OOIOO,
Harmonia,
The Cure,
Eli Mardock,
Quantec,
Goldenarms,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.