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 Georgia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar 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 John Holt to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
The Victims,
Section 25,
The Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
Grauzone,
Mark Hollis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Don Cherry,
Sarah Menescal,
Technova,
Excepter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blossom Toes,
Outsiders,
Das Ding,
Babytalk,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tim Buckley,
The Knickerbockers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alice Coltrane,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soul II Soul,
Bang On A Can,
Scratch Acid,
Ornette Coleman,
New Order,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delta 5,
T.S.O.L.,
Rakim,
Barbara Tucker,
Youth Brigade,
Delon & Dalcan,
David McCallum,
Mad Mike,
the Normal,
Bronski Beat,
Wally Richardson,
Radio Birdman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Banda Bassotti,
Ralphi Rosario,
Chris Corsano,
Bauhaus,
Dead Boys,
The Remains,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Danielle Patucci,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Agitation Free,
Mission of Burma,
Whodini,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Buzzcocks,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.