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 Finland and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 These Immortal Souls to the punk 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Don Cherry,
Hardrive,
Cecil Taylor,
Marvin Gaye,
Khruangbin,
The Smoke,
Tubeway Army,
Davy DMX,
Maurizio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eric Copeland,
Procol Harum,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soft Machine,
The Sonics,
the Normal,
Model 500,
The Associates,
Nico,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Bananas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Idris Muhammad,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ice-T,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lindisfarne,
Adolescents,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Teasers,
Rufus Thomas,
Los Fastidios,
It's A Beautiful Day,
H. Thieme,
Qualms,
Surgeon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kurtis Blow,
The Count Five,
Robert Hood,
Freddie Wadling,
The Music Machine,
The Dead C,
Erasure,
The Gladiators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick May,
Be Bop Deluxe,
KRS-One,
Wings,
Section 25,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Index,
Harry Pussy,
The Real Kids,
Cluster,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.