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 Turkmenistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe 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 Maurizio to the dance 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Excepter,
Youth Brigade,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Modern Lovers,
Neil Young,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Subhumans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eddi Front,
the Swans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doors,
Mr. Review,
Inner City,
Eden Ahbez,
Oneida,
The Grass Roots,
Sonic Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Hood,
Leonard Cohen,
Icehouse,
The Victims,
Fatback Band,
The Star Department,
The Electric Prunes,
The Associates,
Harmonia,
Jandek,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tubeway Army,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Faust,
Khruangbin,
Gang of Four,
Rhythm & Sound,
Anakelly,
The Fugs,
Bad Manners,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Goldenarms,
Negative Approach,
Pagans,
Severed Heads,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New Age Steppers,
Jeff Lynne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Das Ding,
Ronan,
Model 500,
Popol Vuh,
Q65,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Reuben Wilson,
Blossom Toes,
Iggy Pop,
The Raincoats,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.