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 Colombia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Niagra to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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,
Suicide,
Rakim,
Ludus,
Joe Smooth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Anthony Braxton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alphaville,
Severed Heads,
The Birthday Party,
Bobby Womack,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dawn Penn,
Joy Division,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Chrome,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dead Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
The Moody Blues,
Ten City,
The Mojo Men,
Danielle Patucci,
Funkadelic,
New York Dolls,
Nils Olav,
The Motions,
Eric Copeland,
Colin Newman,
The Black Dice,
Marc Almond,
Fugazi,
Angry Samoans,
Popol Vuh,
H. Thieme,
Tears for Fears,
Scratch Acid,
Urselle,
Maleditus Sound,
Aural Exciters,
The Sound,
Henry Cow,
Liliput,
Scan 7,
Girls At Our Best!,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nico,
The Gories,
The Trojans,
Average White Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
Bush Tetras,
The American Breed,
Monolake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boredoms,
Toni Rubio,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.