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 Barbados and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Ultravox to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Flash Fearless,
Angry Samoans,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zero Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Alice Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deepchord,
Fluxion,
Basic Channel,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Heaven 17,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Mummies,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skarface,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scratch Acid,
Hashim,
Hoover,
Public Image Ltd.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Masters at Work,
Bill Wells,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Aural Exciters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Sheep,
Roy Ayers,
Sound Behaviour,
Radiohead,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Flag,
Josef K,
Black Bananas,
Tears for Fears,
Procol Harum,
Barrington Levy,
The Busters,
the Slits,
Vainqueur,
New York Dolls,
The Offenders,
Chrome,
Animal Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bill Near,
Minutemen,
Mission of Burma,
The Associates,
Franke,
the Sonics,
Circle Jerks,
Khruangbin,
Sarah Menescal,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.