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 Korea South and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Underground Resistance to the disco 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Eve St. Jones,
Siglo XX,
the Swans,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Busters,
Scratch Acid,
Mission of Burma,
Fat Boys,
Fugazi,
AZ,
The Cramps,
The Searchers,
Ornette Coleman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Youth Brigade,
Television,
Glenn Branca,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Schoolly D,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bad Manners,
Second Layer,
New York Dolls,
Chris Corsano,
Crime,
The Mummies,
Porter Ricks,
The Fall,
X-102,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Lydon,
The Walker Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
Electric Prunes,
Zero Boys,
T. Rex,
The Black Dice,
Thee Headcoats,
The Seeds,
The Motions,
Soulsonic Force,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Motorama,
Radio Birdman,
Erasure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Swell Maps,
Marshall Jefferson,
K-Klass,
Angry Samoans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Can,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Livin' Joy,
Janne Schatter,
Smog,
Shoche,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.