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 Korea South and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 The Angels of Light to the grunge 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Hill,
Stereo Dub,
Tears for Fears,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Faraquet,
Fugazi,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alison Limerick,
Gang Starr,
The Count Five,
The Invisible,
Second Layer,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Foxx,
Ronnie Foster,
B.T. Express,
Wire,
Rosa Yemen,
Niagra,
The Mummies,
Maleditus Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Drive Like Jehu,
Surgeon,
Crash Course in Science,
Nico,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers,
Mad Mike,
The Busters,
The Gun Club,
Yellowson,
Mr. Review,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Young Marble Giants,
The Wake,
Dawn Penn,
The Durutti Column,
John Holt,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Pop Group,
David Bowie,
Unrelated Segments,
Oblivians,
Soft Machine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Reagan Youth,
The Cowsills,
cv313,
The Fire Engines,
Joyce Sims,
Minnie Riperton,
Spoonie Gee,
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Vainqueur,
Sound Behaviour,
Todd Terry,
Ossler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.