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 Georgia and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Brand Nubian to the dance 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scan 7,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nik Kershaw,
Clear Light,
Jeff Mills,
The Star Department,
Agent Orange,
Lightning Bolt,
Suicide,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pylon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
U.S. Maple,
Cal Tjader,
The Birthday Party,
The Gap Band,
Supertramp,
Fat Boys,
The Moleskins,
Slave,
Todd Terry,
Gong,
Frankie Knuckles,
Parry Music,
the Normal,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alton Ellis,
Black Pus,
Maurizio,
Marc Almond,
Oneida,
Metal Thangz,
the Germs,
Bluetip,
Ralphi Rosario,
Freddie Wadling,
Johnny Clarke,
The Standells,
Arthur Verocai,
Kas Product,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Leaves,
Flash Fearless,
Robert Hood,
The Grass Roots,
The Skatalites,
Tres Demented,
Pantytec,
Eric B and Rakim,
The United States of America,
Model 500,
The Knickerbockers,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultimate Spinach,
B.T. Express,
Harpers Bizarre,
Schoolly D,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Red Krayola,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.