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 Fiji and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Selecter to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Flamin' Groovies,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Outsiders,
DJ Sneak,
Delta 5,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Symarip,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wasted Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Camberwell Now,
Johnny Clarke,
Mad Mike,
Camouflage,
Susan Cadogan,
Oblivians,
Inner City,
Lalann,
Second Layer,
Black Flag,
Lungfish,
The United States of America,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cheater Slicks,
Joyce Sims,
Crime,
X-101,
Joe Smooth,
Soulsonic Force,
Jawbox,
Mark Hollis,
Bronski Beat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang Gang Dance,
Chrome,
Isaac Hayes,
Nico,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ludus,
The Happenings,
R.M.O.,
Tomorrow,
Ken Boothe,
Bang On A Can,
Patti Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quadrant,
The Gories,
AZ,
Whodini,
Alphaville,
the Association,
Groovy Waters,
Au Pairs,
Fela Kuti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ohio Players,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.