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 Kazakhstan and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rites of Spring to the disco 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Black Moon,
Unwound,
The Dirtbombs,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Leaves,
Gang Green,
Freddie Wadling,
Nas,
Wally Richardson,
Magazine,
Inner City,
Joe Smooth,
Moss Icon,
Circle Jerks,
Young Marble Giants,
X-101,
Metal Thangz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yazoo,
Desert Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fall,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ossler,
The Count Five,
Whodini,
Sixth Finger,
Silicon Teens,
Rhythm & Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dead C,
Jawbox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lyres,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agitation Free,
Trumans Water,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soulsonic Force,
Make Up,
Sun City Girls,
H. Thieme,
Sam Rivers,
Niagra,
Second Layer,
Blake Baxter,
X-Ray Spex,
Sandy B,
John Coltrane,
The Electric Prunes,
Surgeon,
Sparks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Junior Murvin,
Stereo Dub,
Minor Threat,
Bill Wells,
Organ,
Mantronix,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.