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 Portland.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Trumans Water to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Swans,
F. McDonald,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Faust,
The Durutti Column,
D'Angelo,
Moby Grape,
Crash Course in Science,
Qualms,
Radiohead,
David Axelrod,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Guru Guru,
Y Pants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Techniques,
Au Pairs,
Symarip,
Oblivians,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Offenders,
Panda Bear,
Black Flag,
Bob Dylan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nick Fraelich,
The Pretty Things,
Quadrant,
La Düsseldorf,
Ronan,
The Kinks,
Scratch Acid,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Grass Roots,
The Saints,
Average White Band,
Gichy Dan,
the Germs,
Crooked Eye,
Little Man,
Reagan Youth,
Supertramp,
Wire,
Marine Girls,
Henry Cow,
Connie Case,
Lower 48,
Pantaleimon,
Joensuu 1685,
Joe Smooth,
Faraquet,
Oneida,
The Cowsills,
Silicon Teens,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flash Fearless,
Spoonie Gee,
Slick Rick,
Ultimate Spinach,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.