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 Mozambique and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 MC5 to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Moebius,
Big Daddy Kane,
Basic Channel,
The Motions,
Donald Byrd,
Ultimate Spinach,
Japan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Techniques,
Ronnie Foster,
Letta Mbulu,
Mo-Dettes,
The Blues Magoos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moby Grape,
Fela Kuti,
MC5,
Laurel Aitken,
Bad Manners,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
Sonic Youth,
Spandau Ballet,
D'Angelo,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra,
Newcleus,
Infiniti,
Erasure,
Junior Murvin,
Jawbox,
K-Klass,
Metal Thangz,
Dawn Penn,
Eve St. Jones,
Alison Limerick,
Cybotron,
Gang of Four,
Dual Sessions,
Lou Christie,
The Pretty Things,
Janne Schatter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bauhaus,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eurythmics,
Kerri Chandler,
Fugazi,
Tom Boy,
Man Parrish,
Television,
Unrelated Segments,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Stockholm Monsters,
Can,
Radiohead,
OOIOO,
Quantec,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.