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 Honduras and from Lyon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Mummies to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Durutti Column,
Urselle,
Eli Mardock,
Ten City,
the Swans,
Michelle Simonal,
Cameo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Connie Case,
The Red Krayola,
In Retrospect,
Make Up,
Prince Buster,
Lalann,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stiv Bators,
The Blues Magoos,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Osbourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sällskapet,
Scan 7,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Evens,
DNA,
DJ Style,
The Remains,
The Smoke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Iggy Pop,
H. Thieme,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Archie Shepp,
Barry Ungar,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nico,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
Joey Negro,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Saccharine Trust,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Sherman,
Ronnie Foster,
Cecil Taylor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
F. McDonald,
Anakelly,
Boredoms,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Sonics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bizarre Inc.,
Groovy Waters,
The Slackers,
Section 25,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.