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 Zambia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sex Pistols to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Ronan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Red Krayola,
Marc Almond,
The Golliwogs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dave Gahan,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Chrome,
Index,
Negative Approach,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ralphi Rosario,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fat Boys,
David McCallum,
The Human League,
Pylon,
The Invisible,
Lyres,
Duran Duran,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Guru Guru,
The Gladiators,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Wells,
Lightning Bolt,
Carl Craig,
Magazine,
Maleditus Sound,
Los Fastidios,
The Divine Comedy,
Judy Mowatt,
Danielle Patucci,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masters at Work,
Section 25,
The Selecter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Pus,
CMW,
Fugazi,
Isaac Hayes,
Sex Pistols,
the Germs,
Kayak,
Eric Dolphy,
Eve St. Jones,
Blossom Toes,
Sarah Menescal,
Eli Mardock,
Sugar Minott,
Sixth Finger,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.