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 Suriname and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Bush Tetras,
Boredoms,
a-ha,
Mad Mike,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Starr,
Nas,
The Slackers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nico,
Intrusion,
Rhythm & Sound,
Max Romeo,
Judy Mowatt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Zero Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
Roxy Music,
Au Pairs,
Stetsasonic,
Monolake,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mission of Burma,
Black Bananas,
Lebanon Hanover,
Supertramp,
Blake Baxter,
Wasted Youth,
Organ,
Arab on Radar,
Connie Case,
Magazine,
Janne Schatter,
Jeff Lynne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mr. Review,
Lalo Schifrin,
Maurizio,
The Angels of Light,
Fad Gadget,
Adolescents,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pantaleimon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Remains,
Moss Icon,
Deadbeat,
The Real Kids,
The Misunderstood,
Hashim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Selecter,
Trumans Water,
Pulsallama,
Chris Corsano,
Sight & Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
ABBA,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scratch Acid,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.