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 Niger and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Throbbing Gristle to the crunk 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Pantaleimon,
Hasil Adkins,
Lakeside,
Vainqueur,
The Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gun Club,
Pylon,
Buzzcocks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Quando Quango,
Gichy Dan,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Motions,
Eddi Front,
The Fortunes,
Dead Boys,
Sound Behaviour,
Marine Girls,
Radiohead,
The Victims,
X-101,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tears for Fears,
Scrapy,
Pulsallama,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Techniques,
Brick,
The Saints,
Visage,
The United States of America,
Kas Product,
Flipper,
The Fire Engines,
Marshall Jefferson,
Slick Rick,
The Birthday Party,
D'Angelo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amazonics,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Althea and Donna,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Severed Heads,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scientists,
Absolute Body Control,
Can,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tom Boy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amon Düül,
Aural Exciters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pagans,
The Cowsills,
Reagan Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Unwound,
Jacques Brel,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.