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 Ghana and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Stiv Bators to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Whodini,
Harmonia,
Masters at Work,
Bob Dylan,
The Techniques,
Arcadia,
Aural Exciters,
Amazonics,
The New Christs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fela Kuti,
Sällskapet,
John Cale,
Radiohead,
Das Ding,
Bad Manners,
Jacques Brel,
Fugazi,
Junior Murvin,
The Dead C,
The Smiths,
Adolescents,
Theoretical Girls,
Yellowson,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Moon,
Can,
Bootsy Collins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Heaven 17,
Marc Almond,
Maleditus Sound,
Clear Light,
Ronnie Foster,
Aloha Tigers,
John Holt,
Scrapy,
Freddie Wadling,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Cowsills,
Circle Jerks,
Blossom Toes,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Unwound,
Man Parrish,
Zero Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
DNA,
Darondo,
Crime,
Scan 7,
Q and Not U,
Jeru the Damaja,
B.T. Express,
Supertramp,
R.M.O.,
Cluster,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Christie,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.