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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Mr. Review to the electroclash 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Durutti Column,
ABBA,
The Smoke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cabaret Voltaire,
New Order,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Make Up,
Maleditus Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mantronix,
Judy Mowatt,
Nik Kershaw,
The Walker Brothers,
Animal Collective,
Steve Hackett,
Rapeman,
The Pretty Things,
Derrick May,
Yazoo,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gun Club,
The Monochrome Set,
The Moody Blues,
Brick,
Negative Approach,
Liliput,
Hashim,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rosa Yemen,
Porter Ricks,
The Dead C,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hardrive,
The Evens,
Visage,
Al Stewart,
Arab on Radar,
Brand Nubian,
Thee Headcoats,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stiv Bators,
Archie Shepp,
The Remains,
The Moleskins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Urselle,
Black Moon,
Eli Mardock,
Rotary Connection,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magazine,
D'Angelo,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun Ra,
The Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
Talk Talk,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.