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 Uganda and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Altered Images to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Gregory Isaacs,
Flipper,
The Cowsills,
The Litter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Prince Buster,
Scratch Acid,
James White and The Blacks,
Stetsasonic,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Busters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hoover,
Joe Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang On A Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bauhaus,
Das Ding,
Angry Samoans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eric Copeland,
The Sonics,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
Hardrive,
Roger Hodgson,
The New Christs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Janne Schatter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Subhumans,
Wings,
Bootsy Collins,
Von Mondo,
Q65,
Main Source,
Suicide,
the Fania All-Stars,
Trumans Water,
Jawbox,
Jacques Brel,
The Monochrome Set,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Soft Cell,
Liliput,
Patti Smith,
Harmonia,
The Mummies,
Chris Corsano,
X-101,
Skriet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeru the Damaja,
Aural Exciters,
the Association,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.