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 Mozambique and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
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 mellotron 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 Spoonie Gee to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Visage,
Motorama,
John Foxx,
the Bar-Kays,
The Buckinghams,
Funky Four + One,
The Cramps,
Section 25,
D'Angelo,
The Red Krayola,
Simply Red,
Zapp,
Andrew Hill,
Goldenarms,
Hot Snakes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lakeside,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Anakelly,
Ludus,
Jawbox,
Deadbeat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Prunes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Das Ding,
John Cale,
Hashim,
Fat Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Moon,
The Offenders,
PIL,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Althea and Donna,
Magazine,
Pussy Galore,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wasted Youth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lalann,
Yellowson,
Ultra Naté,
Babytalk,
Bush Tetras,
Kaleidoscope,
New Order,
The Invisible,
Minny Pops,
The Human League,
Fela Kuti,
Josef K,
Nils Olav,
The Walker Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Funkadelic,
Theoretical Girls,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.