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 Micronesia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultra Naté to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Darondo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aloha Tigers,
The Human League,
Henry Cow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Stooges,
Amazonics,
Make Up,
Mantronix,
The New Christs,
The Seeds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lakeside,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bush Tetras,
Minor Threat,
Nas,
Trumans Water,
Gang Green,
Dennis Brown,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sound Behaviour,
Dual Sessions,
Blossom Toes,
The Moody Blues,
Lee Hazlewood,
Simply Red,
Wolf Eyes,
The Names,
Monolake,
Chris & Cosey,
48th St. Collective,
The Motions,
Mr. Review,
Albert Ayler,
Angry Samoans,
Visage,
Kurtis Blow,
the Sonics,
Howard Jones,
Spandau Ballet,
Michelle Simonal,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Sheep,
Glenn Branca,
Minnie Riperton,
Toni Rubio,
Sparks,
Pagans,
Mad Mike,
Soulsonic Force,
Godley & Creme,
Jandek,
The Selecter,
E-Dancer,
ABC,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.