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 Gambia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
The Selecter,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sam Rivers,
Make Up,
The Busters,
Electric Prunes,
Yaz,
Pussy Galore,
Television Personalities,
K-Klass,
The Dirtbombs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Godley & Creme,
Delta 5,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ponytail,
Arthur Verocai,
The Neon Judgement,
The Tremeloes,
Radiopuhelimet,
These Immortal Souls,
Ronnie Foster,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Human League,
Animal Collective,
Alphaville,
The Fall,
The Residents,
Public Enemy,
Maurizio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Reed,
Susan Cadogan,
Ossler,
Mission of Burma,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Music Machine,
Trumans Water,
The Knickerbockers,
Eli Mardock,
Depeche Mode,
Talk Talk,
The Monks,
Hoover,
Crash Course in Science,
The Remains,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Flag,
Ronan,
Adolescents,
Moby Grape,
The Mojo Men,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Red Krayola,
Mars,
the Human League,
kango's stein massive,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.