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 Morocco and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe 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 Blossom Toes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Nas,
Audionom,
Interpol,
Chrome,
X-102,
James White and The Blacks,
The Doors,
Clear Light,
Deepchord,
Kool Moe Dee,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rapeman,
Dave Gahan,
Bob Dylan,
Erasure,
Thee Headcoats,
The Index,
Isaac Hayes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Axelrod,
F. McDonald,
Kenny Larkin,
Heaven 17,
OOIOO,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rites of Spring,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Electric Prunes,
John Cale,
Ronan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Television,
Outsiders,
Don Cherry,
Pere Ubu,
The Slackers,
Hot Snakes,
cv313,
The Five Americans,
Aswad,
Unrelated Segments,
Frankie Knuckles,
Make Up,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Von Mondo,
The Misunderstood,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Smooth,
The Smoke,
Pagans,
Mo-Dettes,
The Toasters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scrapy,
Niagra,
DNA,
Robert Hood,
Minutemen,
Easy Going,
Siglo XX,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.