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 Somalia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ralphi Rosario to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
Barry Ungar,
Bad Manners,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rufus Thomas,
Fad Gadget,
Roxette,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alice Coltrane,
Carl Craig,
Pere Ubu,
David Axelrod,
Gabor Szabo,
Depeche Mode,
Swell Maps,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moleskins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
James White and The Blacks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rekid,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra,
Arcadia,
Man Eating Sloth,
Negative Approach,
Aural Exciters,
Young Marble Giants,
Pantaleimon,
John Foxx,
Danielle Patucci,
The Litter,
Morten Harket,
U.S. Maple,
Thee Headcoats,
Maleditus Sound,
The Zeros,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mojo Men,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terrestrial Tones,
Freddie Wadling,
Boredoms,
Peter & Gordon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Public Enemy,
Ultravox,
Donny Hathaway,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris & Cosey,
Scrapy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Drexciya,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mantronix,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
MC5,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.