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 Kazakhstan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Nils Olav to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Slick Rick,
Radiohead,
Wings,
F. McDonald,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
June Days,
Moebius,
The Buckinghams,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Associates,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DJ Style,
Scan 7,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Slackers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fear,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Bourne,
Niagra,
Ronan,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Slits,
New Age Steppers,
The Searchers,
Das Ding,
Terry Callier,
Tomorrow,
the Association,
John Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blake Baxter,
Marc Almond,
Sex Pistols,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sound Behaviour,
Outsiders,
The Last Poets,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bauhaus,
New Order,
Buzzcocks,
Ultimate Spinach,
The J.B.'s,
The Mighty Diamonds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marmalade,
Sister Nancy,
The Misunderstood,
Jawbox,
Carl Craig,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Isaac Hayes,
Pantytec,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.