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 Equatorial Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba 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 Graham Central Station to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lungfish,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott Heron,
Depeche Mode,
David McCallum,
Freddie Wadling,
Supertramp,
Archie Shepp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Byrd,
Leonard Cohen,
Steve Hackett,
The Slits,
Davy DMX,
Harry Pussy,
Sarah Menescal,
Nas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Carl Craig,
Joy Division,
Sixth Finger,
New Age Steppers,
Brand Nubian,
Theoretical Girls,
Monks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker,
The Wake,
Jacques Brel,
The Leaves,
The Stooges,
Isaac Hayes,
Franke,
Lou Christie,
Sugar Minott,
Malaria!,
Subhumans,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Associates,
Massinfluence,
The Gories,
The Happenings,
The Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Alison Limerick,
The Saints,
Altered Images,
John Lydon,
Anthony Braxton,
Flash Fearless,
Maurizio,
Black Sheep,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Velvet Underground,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.