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 Liberia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 David Bowie 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 Stiv Bators to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Sonic Youth,
The American Breed,
Faraquet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Charles Mingus,
Flipper,
Supertramp,
the Association,
The Evens,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mo-Dettes,
Todd Terry,
Con Funk Shun,
The Divine Comedy,
Henry Cow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Pus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Stooges,
Robert Hood,
Absolute Body Control,
Mantronix,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boogie Down Productions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Warren Ellis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moss Icon,
The Young Rascals,
the Human League,
The Pop Group,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Vogues,
Sarah Menescal,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fortunes,
The Names,
Scratch Acid,
Althea and Donna,
Goldenarms,
Toni Rubio,
David Bowie,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Royal Trux,
Gabor Szabo,
Scientists,
Skaos,
The Dead C,
The Fugs,
The Real Kids,
Grauzone,
The Slits,
Ronan,
Hardrive,
the Bar-Kays,
Jawbox,
Newcleus,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.