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 Serbia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Flamin' Groovies to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Quadrant,
Brick,
Nils Olav,
Joensuu 1685,
Man Parrish,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Trojans,
Stiv Bators,
Bill Near,
Blancmange,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stereo Dub,
Von Mondo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Magazine,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Doors,
Suicide,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alison Limerick,
Ponytail,
Ice-T,
The Durutti Column,
Second Layer,
the Germs,
The Gories,
Symarip,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Au Pairs,
Rakim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dirtbombs,
Gichy Dan,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Seeds,
KRS-One,
Connie Case,
Spoonie Gee,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
UT,
Johnny Clarke,
Moss Icon,
The Fall,
Panda Bear,
Parry Music,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mojo Men,
the Soft Cell,
Chris & Cosey,
Wire,
Traffic Nightmare,
D'Angelo,
Aural Exciters,
Thompson Twins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Skarface,
Don Cherry,
X-101,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare,
Hot Snakes,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.