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 Tanzania and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Fire Engines to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cramps,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Tremeloes,
Eddi Front,
Das Ding,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eric B and Rakim,
Liliput,
Sällskapet,
Reagan Youth,
Metal Thangz,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dave Gahan,
Sight & Sound,
Television,
Excepter,
Joensuu 1685,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hasil Adkins,
Absolute Body Control,
David McCallum,
Tomorrow,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Sherman,
Soulsonic Force,
The Human League,
The Barracudas,
Swans,
B.T. Express,
Kaleidoscope,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jawbox,
Bobby Womack,
Supertramp,
Althea and Donna,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minor Threat,
Circle Jerks,
Masters at Work,
Gang Gang Dance,
Boredoms,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra,
Lakeside,
Anakelly,
Smog,
Average White Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Zapp,
DJ Style,
Underground Resistance,
Moebius,
The Real Kids,
Second Layer,
Sound Behaviour,
Shuggie Otis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lightning Bolt,
JFA,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.