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 St Lucia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
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 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 Cecil Taylor to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index 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 Dirtbombs,
Aaron Thompson,
Kenny Larkin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Althea and Donna,
Simply Red,
Eurythmics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ken Boothe,
ABBA,
Reagan Youth,
Blake Baxter,
Jacob Miller,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yazoo,
U.S. Maple,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Selecter,
Lightning Bolt,
Sarah Menescal,
John Coltrane,
Television,
cv313,
Underground Resistance,
Danielle Patucci,
Moss Icon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cal Tjader,
Thee Headcoats,
Metal Thangz,
Ice-T,
Eric Dolphy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Desert Stars,
Prince Buster,
The Associates,
In Retrospect,
Leonard Cohen,
Warsaw,
Saccharine Trust,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sugar Minott,
FM Einheit,
Albert Ayler,
the Normal,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
The Residents,
Kaleidoscope,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Germs,
Siglo XX,
Camberwell Now,
Ituana,
Stetsasonic,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.