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 Sierra Leone and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 KRS-One to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
The Barracudas,
Connie Case,
The Star Department,
Blossom Toes,
Dorothy Ashby,
F. McDonald,
Jeff Mills,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
Bush Tetras,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bang On A Can,
The New Christs,
Trumans Water,
The Leaves,
The Doors,
Sam Rivers,
Blake Baxter,
The American Breed,
Easy Going,
Rekid,
Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
One Last Wish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
David Bowie,
Theoretical Girls,
The Busters,
Buzzcocks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lebanon Hanover,
Moss Icon,
Electric Prunes,
OOIOO,
Sugar Minott,
MDC,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Swans,
Black Pus,
Ronnie Foster,
Isaac Hayes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Litter,
John Cale,
Moebius,
Oblivians,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
KRS-One,
Shoche,
Soul II Soul,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Order,
Nirvana,
Camouflage,
Bobby Womack,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
JFA,
Stetsasonic,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.