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 Albania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 The Moody Blues to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Pus,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Dave Gahan,
Mark Hollis,
The Sonics,
Nirvana,
Jerry's Kids,
Brick,
The Divine Comedy,
Jacques Brel,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scion,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eric Dolphy,
Schoolly D,
Lee Hazlewood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Parrish,
June of 44,
Excepter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Isaac Hayes,
David McCallum,
The Victims,
Adolescents,
Flash Fearless,
New Order,
Lakeside,
Sam Rivers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Beau Brummels,
Audionom,
X-101,
The Dirtbombs,
Michelle Simonal,
June Days,
Jimmy McGriff,
Infiniti,
The Moleskins,
Tears for Fears,
UT,
Donald Byrd,
Parry Music,
Zapp,
Joy Division,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Heaven 17,
Clear Light,
Graham Central Station,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Slits,
Desert Stars,
Faraquet,
Zero Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
DNA,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.