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 Nicaragua and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lungfish to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Cell,
Joey Negro,
Porter Ricks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Frankie Knuckles,
Todd Terry,
Von Mondo,
Donny Hathaway,
Suicide,
Gang of Four,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Darondo,
Yellowson,
Graham Central Station,
Crispian St. Peters,
Grey Daturas,
Josef K,
Barry Ungar,
Tommy Roe,
The Pretty Things,
Sun City Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
ABC,
Sixth Finger,
Crooked Eye,
F. McDonald,
The Happenings,
CMW,
Shuggie Otis,
Lightning Bolt,
The Skatalites,
Fad Gadget,
Arthur Verocai,
Ronan,
Amon Düül,
cv313,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Monks,
Girls At Our Best!,
This Heat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Matthew Bourne,
Archie Shepp,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New Order,
Animal Collective,
Ultimate Spinach,
Stockholm Monsters,
Henry Cow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Skarface,
Average White Band,
World's Most,
Mission of Burma,
Crash Course in Science,
Nirvana,
Q65,
The Zeros,
Minutemen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.