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 Azerbaijan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the crunk 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
A Certain Ratio,
Buzzcocks,
Surgeon,
The Cowsills,
Bush Tetras,
Robert Görl,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Junior Murvin,
Neil Young,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Monks,
Fad Gadget,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The United States of America,
The Victims,
June of 44,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sound,
Delta 5,
Tim Buckley,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Foxx,
Hoover,
Pierre Henry,
Soul II Soul,
the Soft Cell,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cramps,
Fat Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scratch Acid,
the Germs,
Gang Starr,
Banda Bassotti,
The Move,
Tears for Fears,
Second Layer,
Connie Case,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fugs,
The Remains,
Depeche Mode,
Barry Ungar,
Minor Threat,
Groovy Waters,
X-101,
LL Cool J,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Techniques,
Guru Guru,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scott Walker,
B.T. Express,
The Birthday Party,
Al Stewart,
Derrick May,
Laurel Aitken,
Susan Cadogan,
Qualms,
Sexual Harrassment,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.