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 Nigeria and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Minnie Riperton to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
The Alarm Clocks,
Y Pants,
Fat Boys,
Bluetip,
Joe Smooth,
John Lydon,
Godley & Creme,
Blossom Toes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Monolake,
D'Angelo,
Bauhaus,
One Last Wish,
X-101,
Crooked Eye,
Flipper,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Faust,
Yaz,
The Busters,
Unwound,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
MC5,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Accadde A,
Junior Murvin,
Royal Trux,
Public Enemy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swans,
10cc,
Joe Finger,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Neon Judgement,
Pylon,
Can,
Howard Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Names,
Model 500,
Eurythmics,
The Cure,
The Detroit Cobras,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fela Kuti,
Radiohead,
Neil Young,
Duran Duran,
The Gladiators,
Eddi Front,
The Slits,
John Foxx,
Section 25,
Subhumans,
Pere Ubu,
Cameo,
Spandau Ballet,
The Count Five,
The Tremeloes,
CMW,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.