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 Pakistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin 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 B.T. Express to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
The Wake,
AZ,
Fad Gadget,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ludus,
Electric Prunes,
Sun City Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Erasure,
Newcleus,
MC5,
Scott Walker,
Tommy Roe,
Ossler,
Mission of Burma,
Donny Hathaway,
Archie Shepp,
Mr. Review,
Bluetip,
the Swans,
Excepter,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Royal Trux,
the Slits,
Sugar Minott,
Infiniti,
The Grass Roots,
Flipper,
The Barracudas,
The American Breed,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Moon,
The Music Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Buzzcocks,
Hasil Adkins,
Ornette Coleman,
Suburban Knight,
Saccharine Trust,
Quadrant,
Camberwell Now,
Country Teasers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minnie Riperton,
8 Eyed Spy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bad Manners,
Soulsonic Force,
Cecil Taylor,
Pulsallama,
Roy Ayers,
The Shadows of Knight,
DJ Sneak,
Wasted Youth,
Swell Maps,
Tubeway Army,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Monks,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.