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 Solomon Islands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Steve Hackett to the grunge 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Smog,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bauhaus,
The Dirtbombs,
Janne Schatter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fear,
Deepchord,
Sandy B,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Depeche Mode,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
H. Thieme,
Eve St. Jones,
New Age Steppers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Funkadelic,
Tommy Roe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dave Clark Five,
Japan,
Peter & Gordon,
Mary Jane Girls,
DNA,
Unwound,
Slick Rick,
Thompson Twins,
Barrington Levy,
Masters at Work,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Sheep,
Ituana,
X-102,
Blossom Toes,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
AZ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Bananas,
Unrelated Segments,
Glenn Branca,
Kayak,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Doors,
David McCallum,
Banda Bassotti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crooked Eye,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pierre Henry,
Magma,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crispy Ambulance,
Monks,
Sight & Sound,
Max Romeo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.