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 Niger and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Agent Orange to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Bill Near,
Whodini,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yazoo,
Blancmange,
OOIOO,
The Human League,
T. Rex,
MDC,
These Immortal Souls,
X-Ray Spex,
Althea and Donna,
Aloha Tigers,
John Cale,
The Five Americans,
Zapp,
Gong,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jeff Mills,
The Red Krayola,
Boredoms,
Moebius,
Saccharine Trust,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ice-T,
Rosa Yemen,
Los Fastidios,
Television,
Yusef Lateef,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Circle Jerks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pet Shop Boys,
Frankie Knuckles,
Glenn Branca,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mary Jane Girls,
Royal Trux,
Lungfish,
The Mojo Men,
Television Personalities,
Man Eating Sloth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Livin' Joy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Scientists,
Cluster,
Joensuu 1685,
Judy Mowatt,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Hashim,
Gichy Dan,
Reagan Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.