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 Estonia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe 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 Bill Wells to the crunk 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eden Ahbez,
Hashim,
Bobby Sherman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lakeside,
Marvin Gaye,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cure,
H. Thieme,
Bill Near,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ponytail,
Crispian St. Peters,
Television,
Anthony Braxton,
Subhumans,
Grauzone,
Mantronix,
Alphaville,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Görl,
Althea and Donna,
Angry Samoans,
Dave Gahan,
The Busters,
Peter and Kerry,
Minutemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eve St. Jones,
Audionom,
Kurtis Blow,
The Evens,
Outsiders,
Crooked Eye,
the Bar-Kays,
James White and The Blacks,
Moebius,
Laurel Aitken,
The Victims,
The Misunderstood,
Y Pants,
John Foxx,
R.M.O.,
The Angels of Light,
Black Flag,
10cc,
Bobby Womack,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Mills,
Joensuu 1685,
Howard Jones,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blossom Toes,
Ronan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Pus,
The Mojo Men,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.