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 Somalia and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Delta 5 to the crunk 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
The Fugs,
Black Flag,
Y Pants,
Supertramp,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pere Ubu,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
Buzzcocks,
Josef K,
Rufus Thomas,
Byron Stingily,
Eric B and Rakim,
Agent Orange,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Misunderstood,
Interpol,
Cameo,
Erykah Badu,
The Buckinghams,
Liliput,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Görl,
Pulsallama,
AZ,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
ABC,
John Holt,
Gang Starr,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Colin Newman,
The Tremeloes,
Black Sheep,
Delta 5,
Henry Cow,
Nick Fraelich,
Average White Band,
The Slackers,
China Crisis,
Pole,
Harry Pussy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Popol Vuh,
World's Most,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Subhumans,
Sex Pistols,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Evens,
The Searchers,
Neu!,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.