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 Benin and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the jazz 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Stereo Dub,
The Toasters,
The Cowsills,
Gang Gang Dance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Patti Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Skatalites,
The Real Kids,
The Cramps,
Kevin Saunderson,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Saints,
Visage,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Germs,
Popol Vuh,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Carl Craig,
Maurizio,
Black Pus,
Blancmange,
Byron Stingily,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Byrd,
Ornette Coleman,
Crash Course in Science,
UT,
Soft Machine,
Glenn Branca,
Cluster,
Bob Dylan,
DJ Style,
The Remains,
Yazoo,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Parrish,
The Music Machine,
the Swans,
Magazine,
Sexual Harrassment,
The American Breed,
Dead Boys,
The Barracudas,
The Velvet Underground,
Soft Cell,
Echospace,
Gong,
Alphaville,
The Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
B.T. Express,
New York Dolls,
Isaac Hayes,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Wake,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.