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 Ecuador and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Unrelated Segments,
Deakin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ituana,
Erykah Badu,
Rod Modell,
Alton Ellis,
Stetsasonic,
Ten City,
The Cramps,
June of 44,
Underground Resistance,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roy Ayers,
X-Ray Spex,
Arcadia,
Section 25,
Gang Green,
Goldenarms,
Harry Pussy,
Spoonie Gee,
The Kinks,
Guru Guru,
The Cowsills,
Parry Music,
Crooked Eye,
Gabor Szabo,
KRS-One,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scratch Acid,
Peter and Kerry,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Porter Ricks,
Pantaleimon,
The Cure,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultra Naté,
Cal Tjader,
Erasure,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Adolescents,
Nico,
Black Sheep,
Royal Trux,
The Birthday Party,
Rotary Connection,
OOIOO,
Lucky Dragons,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ice-T,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.