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 Oman and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes 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 Frankie Knuckles to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Inner City,
The Mojo Men,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Rakim,
Fluxion,
the Human League,
Maleditus Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
Harry Pussy,
Wire,
Popol Vuh,
Marmalade,
Eden Ahbez,
Fela Kuti,
Kayak,
The Gladiators,
Letta Mbulu,
Accadde A,
Johnny Clarke,
T. Rex,
Ponytail,
Essential Logic,
The Fuzztones,
Scrapy,
Black Flag,
Bronski Beat,
Babytalk,
Funky Four + One,
The Pop Group,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bill Wells,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yazoo,
Lou Reed,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stetsasonic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
One Last Wish,
Black Pus,
Anthony Braxton,
Traffic Nightmare,
H. Thieme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dirtbombs,
Bauhaus,
Jeff Mills,
Chris & Cosey,
Negative Approach,
DNA,
Rapeman,
Shoche,
Scott Walker,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.