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 Latvia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Barbara Tucker to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions 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?
Piero Umiliani,
Moebius,
Mission of Burma,
Scott Walker,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Little Man,
Sixth Finger,
Pussy Galore,
The Moody Blues,
Roxy Music,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Misunderstood,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Blues Magoos,
Minor Threat,
Unrelated Segments,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Altered Images,
Kaleidoscope,
June of 44,
Amazonics,
Newcleus,
Yellowson,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
The Gladiators,
John Coltrane,
Con Funk Shun,
The American Breed,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lungfish,
Essential Logic,
Todd Rundgren,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ossler,
Brothers Johnson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ohio Players,
Crash Course in Science,
Outsiders,
CMW,
Lightning Bolt,
Soul II Soul,
Laurel Aitken,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ornette Coleman,
The Sonics,
EPMD,
Suburban Knight,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Neon Judgement,
Flipper,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arab on Radar,
Depeche Mode,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.