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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Faust to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bill Near,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wings,
Matthew Bourne,
Monks,
Gang Green,
Sex Pistols,
Ultra Naté,
Leonard Cohen,
Cheater Slicks,
Sight & Sound,
Can,
Sällskapet,
DJ Style,
Wally Richardson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Knickerbockers,
Nick Fraelich,
Byron Stingily,
Newcleus,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Steve Hackett,
Procol Harum,
The Names,
The Index,
Todd Terry,
Thee Headcoats,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sound Behaviour,
Pantaleimon,
Tres Demented,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Wasted Youth,
The Beau Brummels,
Panda Bear,
Swell Maps,
Spandau Ballet,
Judy Mowatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blancmange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chrome,
Pierre Henry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Howard Jones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aural Exciters,
Country Teasers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
John Lydon,
Average White Band,
Sister Nancy,
T.S.O.L.,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.