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 Liechtenstein and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Silicon Teens to the grunge 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Henry Cow,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minutemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oblivians,
Archie Shepp,
Isaac Hayes,
Supertramp,
Cybotron,
Mark Hollis,
Bluetip,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Trumans Water,
The Grass Roots,
The Victims,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aswad,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dave Gahan,
Mr. Review,
Crime,
Guru Guru,
Ice-T,
Sight & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cluster,
Chrome,
Deepchord,
Vladislav Delay,
James White and The Blacks,
K-Klass,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Qualms,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Skaos,
The Mummies,
Black Flag,
The Gladiators,
Fat Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Depeche Mode,
Joyce Sims,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bizarre Inc.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeff Mills,
Camouflage,
David McCallum,
Ken Boothe,
Y Pants,
Peter & Gordon,
Sarah Menescal,
Fad Gadget,
Howard Jones,
Anthony Braxton,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.