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 Libya and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the punk 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
The Smiths,
Davy DMX,
Todd Rundgren,
Roxy Music,
Maurizio,
Black Bananas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Radiopuhelimet,
Excepter,
Josef K,
The New Christs,
The Fire Engines,
The Wake,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Franke,
Amazonics,
Johnny Clarke,
Mr. Review,
Black Moon,
Suburban Knight,
Tres Demented,
Scan 7,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Cale,
Pantytec,
Rod Modell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deadbeat,
Gang Green,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fall,
Mary Jane Girls,
New York Dolls,
Liliput,
Slave,
Fear,
The Alarm Clocks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Standells,
Letta Mbulu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Mills,
Subhumans,
Skarface,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Unrelated Segments,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed,
Skriet,
The J.B.'s,
Scrapy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marc Almond,
Susan Cadogan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.