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 Tonga and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cal Tjader to the funk 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Clear Light,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joy Division,
Malaria!,
Don Cherry,
The Index,
Urselle,
Porter Ricks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Man Parrish,
The Slackers,
Q and Not U,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bill Wells,
cv313,
MC5,
X-101,
Vainqueur,
Amon Düül II,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Monochrome Set,
Bluetip,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arcadia,
Nirvana,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Saints,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Zero Boys,
Bob Dylan,
The Mummies,
Ice-T,
Peter and Kerry,
Public Enemy,
The Searchers,
Anthony Braxton,
Quando Quango,
Echospace,
Lalann,
Lou Christie,
Nas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
The United States of America,
Cluster,
Wolf Eyes,
Slick Rick,
Kerri Chandler,
June of 44,
The Buckinghams,
H. Thieme,
Mission of Burma,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cameo,
Eve St. Jones,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Remains,
Cheater Slicks,
Fatback Band,
John Coltrane,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.