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 Brunei and from New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Martian to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Au Pairs,
UT,
Glenn Branca,
Maurizio,
Jawbox,
Johnny Clarke,
Warsaw,
E-Dancer,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blancmange,
Josef K,
The Walker Brothers,
Cameo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-101,
10cc,
Negative Approach,
Marmalade,
Yazoo,
the Swans,
The Wake,
Judy Mowatt,
Excepter,
Reuben Wilson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Altered Images,
D'Angelo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cybotron,
Nico,
Todd Rundgren,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Livin' Joy,
Monks,
48th St. Collective,
EPMD,
Juan Atkins,
Unwound,
The Vogues,
Barrington Levy,
Theoretical Girls,
Slick Rick,
The Pop Group,
Colin Newman,
Erasure,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dead C,
Eden Ahbez,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
ABC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Severed Heads,
Echospace,
Surgeon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jerry's Kids,
Pierre Henry,
Kayak,
Aswad,
Panda Bear,
Jeru the Damaja,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.