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 Australia and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lungfish to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Au Pairs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Loose Ends,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jacques Brel,
Mission of Burma,
Parry Music,
EPMD,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
June of 44,
Carl Craig,
Niagra,
Bang On A Can,
Nik Kershaw,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hardrive,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Move,
The Walker Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scan 7,
Khruangbin,
Mandrill,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New Order,
Swans,
The Cowsills,
Public Enemy,
John Cale,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brothers Johnson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soft Cell,
Albert Ayler,
Fela Kuti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Surgeon,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wings,
Minutemen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Slick Rick,
Ken Boothe,
Alice Coltrane,
The Black Dice,
Dawn Penn,
Half Japanese,
Liliput,
The Modern Lovers,
Alison Limerick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Aaron Thompson,
the Slits,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.