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 Sierra Leone and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fall,
Pantaleimon,
PIL,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Motorama,
Harmonia,
The New Christs,
Glenn Branca,
Patti Smith,
Rosa Yemen,
Joe Smooth,
Soul Sonic Force,
The United States of America,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
Camouflage,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Essential Logic,
In Retrospect,
Arthur Verocai,
Goldenarms,
Roger Hodgson,
Magma,
Avey Tare,
Swans,
The Cramps,
Donny Hathaway,
ABBA,
Duran Duran,
kango's stein massive,
Livin' Joy,
Scratch Acid,
The Fire Engines,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Moby Grape,
The Electric Prunes,
Von Mondo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Cale,
X-102,
Suicide,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cal Tjader,
The Zeros,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soulsonic Force,
Skriet,
Lou Christie,
Spoonie Gee,
Roxy Music,
Letta Mbulu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott Heron,
Metal Thangz,
Quantec,
Theoretical Girls,
Audionom,
Eric Copeland,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.