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 South Sudan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
The Techniques,
R.M.O.,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blackbyrds,
Faust,
Excepter,
Spandau Ballet,
Animal Collective,
Patti Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Jawbox,
Gang Gang Dance,
Los Fastidios,
Wasted Youth,
Althea and Donna,
The Walker Brothers,
K-Klass,
Jacob Miller,
Unwound,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gladiators,
Robert Wyatt,
Country Teasers,
Moebius,
Chrome,
Ornette Coleman,
Camberwell Now,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sparks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Darondo,
Ituana,
Slave,
Aaron Thompson,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Smog,
Bizarre Inc.,
David McCallum,
La Düsseldorf,
Model 500,
The Gun Club,
KRS-One,
Intrusion,
Neil Young,
AZ,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers,
The Fire Engines,
Susan Cadogan,
Hoover,
Eyeless In Gaza,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultra Naté,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.