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 Jamaica and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Amazonics to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Kenny Larkin,
the Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
K-Klass,
Piero Umiliani,
T.S.O.L.,
Joy Division,
The Electric Prunes,
Andrew Hill,
Amon Düül II,
Toni Rubio,
Eric Dolphy,
B.T. Express,
Soulsonic Force,
The Motions,
X-Ray Spex,
Mission of Burma,
the Normal,
Connie Case,
U.S. Maple,
Tubeway Army,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bronski Beat,
CMW,
Television Personalities,
Ornette Coleman,
Adolescents,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
Eli Mardock,
Minor Threat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crime,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
PIL,
Can,
Chrome,
Faust,
Ice-T,
Monks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Evens,
David Axelrod,
Fatback Band,
kango's stein massive,
Tommy Roe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Last Poets,
Pantytec,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Susan Cadogan,
Eden Ahbez,
Stiv Bators,
Cymande,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.