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 Cameroon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Harry Pussy to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Shuggie Otis,
Theoretical Girls,
The Last Poets,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cure,
Y Pants,
The J.B.'s,
Marvin Gaye,
Model 500,
the Soft Cell,
Man Parrish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Henry Cow,
The Pop Group,
New York Dolls,
Alton Ellis,
Amazonics,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare,
The Dave Clark Five,
Average White Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes,
Parry Music,
Cheater Slicks,
Arab on Radar,
Dawn Penn,
Jeff Lynne,
Echospace,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roxy Music,
Terry Callier,
Deepchord,
Funky Four + One,
Ossler,
Scratch Acid,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stiv Bators,
a-ha,
The Neon Judgement,
Spoonie Gee,
Buzzcocks,
The Remains,
Albert Ayler,
Quando Quango,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sällskapet,
Intrusion,
Rapeman,
Quadrant,
The Red Krayola,
Severed Heads,
Steve Hackett,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.