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 Papua New Guinea and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Urselle to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Womack,
Todd Terry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultravox,
Urselle,
Gang Green,
the Bar-Kays,
Yazoo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Angels of Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-101,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Standells,
Blossom Toes,
The Gun Club,
Fad Gadget,
Rapeman,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Glenn Branca,
New Age Steppers,
Echospace,
Dead Boys,
Dave Gahan,
Half Japanese,
the Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Charles Mingus,
Bang On A Can,
Roy Ayers,
Negative Approach,
The Leaves,
Subhumans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Donald Byrd,
Nirvana,
Rites of Spring,
Y Pants,
Banda Bassotti,
John Coltrane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Essential Logic,
Reuben Wilson,
In Retrospect,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Connie Case,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Skatalites,
Sun Ra,
Con Funk Shun,
The Grass Roots,
Sällskapet,
Adolescents,
The Fugs,
Black Flag,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.