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 Bhutan 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Sex Pistols to the disco 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Crash Course in Science,
DNA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
MDC,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
Thee Headcoats,
The Velvet Underground,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Cell,
Sun City Girls,
X-102,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Essential Logic,
The Motions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
Oneida,
Rosa Yemen,
Can,
Anakelly,
Bush Tetras,
Jeff Lynne,
Steve Hackett,
Prince Buster,
Slave,
Quantec,
Section 25,
Drexciya,
Loose Ends,
World's Most,
AZ,
Oblivians,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nik Kershaw,
The Searchers,
The Skatalites,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Modern Lovers,
The Grass Roots,
Suicide,
Quadrant,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Görl,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Clarke,
Motorama,
the Bar-Kays,
The Human League,
Ponytail,
Skaos,
Ten City,
Youth Brigade,
Kenny Larkin,
Excepter,
John Holt,
Los Fastidios,
Yazoo,
Godley & Creme,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.