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 Georgia and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Nile Rodgers 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 KRS-One to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Peter and Kerry,
Malaria!,
The Saints,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
LL Cool J,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wire,
Siglo XX,
Cecil Taylor,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cure,
Stereo Dub,
Sparks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Royal Trux,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Star Department,
Tropical Tobacco,
Buzzcocks,
The Fire Engines,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mantronix,
Kerri Chandler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül II,
Duran Duran,
Fatback Band,
Television,
Fela Kuti,
Crash Course in Science,
Junior Murvin,
The Gories,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Angels of Light,
David Axelrod,
the Human League,
Lucky Dragons,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Second Layer,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ponytail,
Joey Negro,
The Blues Magoos,
Brand Nubian,
Roxy Music,
Crispian St. Peters,
This Heat,
John Foxx,
Moebius,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joyce Sims,
Marc Almond,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.