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 Syria and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
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 oboe 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 Johnny Clarke to the grime 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
Tomorrow,
Y Pants,
Echospace,
Swans,
Neil Young,
Scion,
Jacques Brel,
Rotary Connection,
Easy Going,
Television Personalities,
X-Ray Spex,
Fatback Band,
John Holt,
Basic Channel,
Mad Mike,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Adolescents,
The Fuzztones,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Youth Brigade,
The Smiths,
The Wake,
Man Parrish,
Liliput,
8 Eyed Spy,
Peter and Kerry,
Sixth Finger,
Silicon Teens,
Soft Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
Minutemen,
Shuggie Otis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Outsiders,
The Searchers,
Symarip,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Christie,
Ludus,
Spoonie Gee,
Brick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Newcleus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wire,
T. Rex,
Black Pus,
Neu!,
Skaos,
Underground Resistance,
Harmonia,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Groovy Waters,
Stetsasonic,
Von Mondo,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.