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 Armenia and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Maurizio to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Crime,
Jeff Lynne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultravox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Bananas,
The Black Dice,
Tropical Tobacco,
Livin' Joy,
Rakim,
Pet Shop Boys,
10cc,
Archie Shepp,
Monks,
New York Dolls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rhythm & Sound,
Audionom,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Real Kids,
Suburban Knight,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hoover,
Minor Threat,
a-ha,
The Blues Magoos,
Funky Four + One,
The Victims,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Doors,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Beau Brummels,
The Zeros,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang of Four,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roy Ayers,
Outsiders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roxy Music,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
La Düsseldorf,
Metal Thangz,
Porter Ricks,
Kurtis Blow,
Deepchord,
Ralphi Rosario,
Charles Mingus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
The New Christs,
The Red Krayola,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fire Engines,
Can,
Fluxion,
John Foxx,
the Sonics,
Bang On A Can,
Altered Images,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.