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 Ivory Coast and from Tehran.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Joy Division to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott Heron,
DJ Sneak,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bob Dylan,
a-ha,
Minutemen,
The Doors,
The Standells,
Sex Pistols,
Piero Umiliani,
The Names,
Patti Smith,
Eurythmics,
Traffic Nightmare,
Malaria!,
Average White Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
kango's stein massive,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Faust,
Kerri Chandler,
Boz Scaggs,
Sam Rivers,
Scientists,
Crime,
John Lydon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Camberwell Now,
Darondo,
Ken Boothe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pantaleimon,
Simply Red,
Schoolly D,
Suburban Knight,
Nation of Ulysses,
Visage,
Archie Shepp,
The Human League,
Inner City,
Davy DMX,
Derrick May,
The Techniques,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
One Last Wish,
The Gories,
Marine Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Toni Rubio,
Anakelly,
Wasted Youth,
KRS-One,
The Cure,
OOIOO,
Basic Channel,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stockholm Monsters,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.