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 Jordan and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Swans,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Residents,
Archie Shepp,
The Wake,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed,
Los Fastidios,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ralphi Rosario,
Unrelated Segments,
The J.B.'s,
Intrusion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Connie Case,
Silicon Teens,
Marshall Jefferson,
R.M.O.,
John Cale,
Kurtis Blow,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Flag,
Eden Ahbez,
Mr. Review,
Swell Maps,
Radiohead,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Charles Mingus,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Rundgren,
The Knickerbockers,
X-102,
Reagan Youth,
Shoche,
Gil Scott Heron,
Icehouse,
Crash Course in Science,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DJ Style,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grauzone,
Motorama,
Harry Pussy,
Theoretical Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marmalade,
Von Mondo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Khruangbin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Y Pants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sight & Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Whodini,
The Techniques,
Ten City,
Moebius,
Bill Near,
Zero Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.