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 Grenada and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Thee Headcoats,
Eve St. Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Moody Blues,
The Misunderstood,
Television,
Derrick Morgan,
Dead Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New York Dolls,
Newcleus,
Shuggie Otis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soft Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Peter and Kerry,
Terry Callier,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sparks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wolf Eyes,
Popol Vuh,
The Knickerbockers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Normal,
DJ Style,
Qualms,
Dark Day,
Crime,
Half Japanese,
Fat Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brick,
Bootsy Collins,
The Index,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tropical Tobacco,
Idris Muhammad,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Matthew Bourne,
a-ha,
Wire,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker,
Swans,
Yazoo,
Al Stewart,
Ronnie Foster,
Bush Tetras,
The Angels of Light,
Chris Corsano,
Crispian St. Peters,
K-Klass,
Motorama,
Stockholm Monsters,
Unrelated Segments,
Agitation Free,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Piero Umiliani,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.