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 Laos and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Juan Atkins to the crunk 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Brass Construction,
Chris & Cosey,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Liliput,
Ossler,
The Standells,
Soft Cell,
Oblivians,
48th St. Collective,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Reed,
John Foxx,
Desert Stars,
Motorama,
Pantaleimon,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Moody Blues,
The Tremeloes,
The Techniques,
Steve Hackett,
Groovy Waters,
Clear Light,
Public Image Ltd.,
Animal Collective,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Royal Trux,
X-Ray Spex,
The Wake,
Deakin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Symarip,
Von Mondo,
Spandau Ballet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sex Pistols,
The Searchers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeff Lynne,
Agent Orange,
Franke,
Donny Hathaway,
Parry Music,
Zero Boys,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Copeland,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Move,
Radiohead,
Stereo Dub,
F. McDonald,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alison Limerick,
Loose Ends,
Leonard Cohen,
Scan 7,
Ultra Naté,
ABC,
Swans,
Chris Corsano,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.