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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Martian to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Minutemen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
DNA,
John Lydon,
Joyce Sims,
Pantaleimon,
Rotary Connection,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Porter Ricks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Avey Tare,
Wolf Eyes,
Eve St. Jones,
The Smiths,
Monolake,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Whodini,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Roxy Music,
John Cale,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Sheep,
Sixth Finger,
Goldenarms,
The Beau Brummels,
June of 44,
Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
DJ Style,
The Leaves,
Anthony Braxton,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rapeman,
Television Personalities,
The Evens,
Andrew Hill,
World's Most,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dead C,
Gang of Four,
Trumans Water,
Brass Construction,
Bill Near,
Bad Manners,
Mission of Burma,
Second Layer,
OOIOO,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Christie,
Laurel Aitken,
Pylon,
Letta Mbulu,
Delta 5,
Soul Sonic Force,
New Order,
Eli Mardock,
The Blues Magoos,
Radiohead,
Black Bananas,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.