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 Luxembourg and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cameo to the rap 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soul II Soul,
Eric Dolphy,
Dawn Penn,
Nico,
Gang of Four,
Sex Pistols,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fugs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Davy DMX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joyce Sims,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Flag,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare,
Andrew Hill,
The Fall,
Audionom,
Stiv Bators,
Neu!,
Donald Byrd,
Babytalk,
Bill Wells,
Y Pants,
Bluetip,
KRS-One,
The Tremeloes,
Hoover,
Visage,
the Germs,
Amon Düül II,
Royal Trux,
Monolake,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Slits,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Severed Heads,
Gang Starr,
Joe Finger,
Robert Görl,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aloha Tigers,
Absolute Body Control,
Jacob Miller,
Laurel Aitken,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Excepter,
Saccharine Trust,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New Order,
Lyres,
Pylon,
L. Decosne,
The Knickerbockers,
The Star Department,
DNA,
The Martian,
Derrick Morgan,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.