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 Lithuania and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 David Axelrod to the techno 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fad Gadget,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eden Ahbez,
Rapeman,
Tom Boy,
The Monks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Absolute Body Control,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fortunes,
China Crisis,
Arab on Radar,
Pierre Henry,
Dennis Brown,
Kenny Larkin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Procol Harum,
Lower 48,
Moss Icon,
The Motions,
Todd Rundgren,
The Music Machine,
Scott Walker,
Jandek,
Patti Smith,
The Fuzztones,
Franke,
Brass Construction,
Marc Almond,
Brand Nubian,
Fatback Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Isaac Hayes,
Piero Umiliani,
Vainqueur,
Oblivians,
Kas Product,
Janne Schatter,
Thompson Twins,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Womack,
Freddie Wadling,
Alton Ellis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camberwell Now,
10cc,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Theoretical Girls,
Public Enemy,
The Cramps,
John Foxx,
Royal Trux,
The Flesh Eaters,
Depeche Mode,
Warsaw,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.