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 Jordan and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mr. Review to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Blossom Toes,
Hot Snakes,
The Offenders,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chris Corsano,
The Martian,
Bauhaus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Victims,
Susan Cadogan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hardrive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swell Maps,
Ice-T,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wally Richardson,
The Wake,
The Techniques,
The Trojans,
T. Rex,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Foxx,
Derrick Morgan,
Delon & Dalcan,
The New Christs,
The Golliwogs,
Echospace,
Warren Ellis,
Little Man,
Lindisfarne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Misunderstood,
Erasure,
Todd Rundgren,
R.M.O.,
The Grass Roots,
Drive Like Jehu,
Simply Red,
Silicon Teens,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Steve Hackett,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bad Manners,
Mr. Review,
Drexciya,
Dark Day,
The Standells,
Cybotron,
Supertramp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun Ra,
The United States of America,
Brick,
Stiv Bators,
The Electric Prunes,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.