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 Samoa and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Gun Club to the electroclash 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Theoretical Girls,
Fat Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Rundgren,
Dead Boys,
Alice Coltrane,
Guru Guru,
The Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerri Chandler,
Sarah Menescal,
T. Rex,
Kurtis Blow,
Cecil Taylor,
The Busters,
The Gun Club,
Scratch Acid,
Magma,
John Lydon,
Clear Light,
The Count Five,
Prince Buster,
Ronnie Foster,
Rosa Yemen,
Robert Wyatt,
The Standells,
Joyce Sims,
Metal Thangz,
Jeff Mills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Masters at Work,
The Sound,
Derrick May,
David Bowie,
Warsaw,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Shoche,
Fela Kuti,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Magazine,
Newcleus,
Ten City,
China Crisis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sex Pistols,
Hot Snakes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barrington Levy,
Faust,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marcia Griffiths,
James White and The Blacks,
The Five Americans,
The Blues Magoos,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Knickerbockers,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.