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 Croatia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer 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 Bush Tetras to the crunk 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stiv Bators,
Suicide,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sex Pistols,
The Offenders,
Darondo,
June of 44,
Desert Stars,
Babytalk,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
DNA,
Chris & Cosey,
Fear,
Quando Quango,
Michelle Simonal,
Glenn Branca,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pantytec,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Sister Nancy,
the Human League,
Arthur Verocai,
Massinfluence,
Sight & Sound,
The Moleskins,
Loose Ends,
The Velvet Underground,
Zapp,
Smog,
Cheater Slicks,
John Coltrane,
Whodini,
Pulsallama,
The Toasters,
David McCallum,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Technova,
Trumans Water,
Fugazi,
The Techniques,
The Smoke,
Alice Coltrane,
Archie Shepp,
Livin' Joy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Faust,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Raincoats,
James White and The Blacks,
Sällskapet,
The Human League,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pantaleimon,
Dave Gahan,
Bizarre Inc.,
A Certain Ratio,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.