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 Barbados and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin 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 ABC to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Prince Buster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Leonard Cohen,
The Smiths,
DJ Sneak,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nick Fraelich,
The J.B.'s,
T.S.O.L.,
Scratch Acid,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cybotron,
Depeche Mode,
Lindisfarne,
The Real Kids,
The Young Rascals,
Robert Hood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
kango's stein massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rakim,
John Cale,
Minor Threat,
Iggy Pop,
Motorama,
Easy Going,
The Angels of Light,
Faust,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scientists,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lightning Bolt,
Jimmy McGriff,
Andrew Hill,
Accadde A,
Jacob Miller,
Barry Ungar,
Alice Coltrane,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rotary Connection,
Tubeway Army,
The Residents,
Ultra Naté,
Thompson Twins,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Jeff Mills,
MC5,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Cell,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scan 7,
Fat Boys,
The Dead C,
Roger Hodgson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Grauzone,
Sam Rivers,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.