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 Russia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum 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 Sight & Sound to the dance 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Section 25,
Davy DMX,
the Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Slick Rick,
Janne Schatter,
Skriet,
Alison Limerick,
Sugar Minott,
The Real Kids,
The Martian,
Radiohead,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ice-T,
the Slits,
Drexciya,
The Monochrome Set,
Mo-Dettes,
Barbara Tucker,
Sex Pistols,
Eli Mardock,
Moebius,
Mandrill,
Freddie Wadling,
Flash Fearless,
Marmalade,
The Names,
Gregory Isaacs,
Goldenarms,
Supertramp,
The Gladiators,
Joe Smooth,
Trumans Water,
Amon Düül,
Stereo Dub,
T.S.O.L.,
David Axelrod,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Wake,
Livin' Joy,
Yellowson,
JFA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brick,
Easy Going,
Television Personalities,
ABC,
John Holt,
The J.B.'s,
48th St. Collective,
Rekid,
Eve St. Jones,
kango's stein massive,
Black Pus,
Buzzcocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Unrelated Segments,
Bill Near,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Beau Brummels,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.