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 Hungary and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar 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 MDC to the electroclash 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
June Days,
Bill Wells,
The Dirtbombs,
Rekid,
MDC,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Knickerbockers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gladiators,
Quando Quango,
Girls At Our Best!,
Blancmange,
Althea and Donna,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Slackers,
Whodini,
The Gun Club,
Carl Craig,
Amazonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
Television,
Harry Pussy,
The Grass Roots,
Visage,
The Wake,
Kas Product,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed,
Heaven 17,
Eric B and Rakim,
Clear Light,
Newcleus,
The Busters,
DNA,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Offenders,
The J.B.'s,
Swell Maps,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Searchers,
the Slits,
Rotary Connection,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hasil Adkins,
Ronnie Foster,
Main Source,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sonics,
Motorama,
Ice-T,
Jawbox,
Schoolly D,
Depeche Mode,
Donny Hathaway,
Magazine,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.