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 Seychelles and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Electric Prunes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Sonics,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Swans,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
Can,
Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Gang Dance,
Accadde A,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skarface,
Trumans Water,
Ken Boothe,
Charles Mingus,
Ludus,
The J.B.'s,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Moleskins,
Tim Buckley,
Echospace,
Bootsy Collins,
Blake Baxter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
La Düsseldorf,
Skriet,
Scientists,
Public Image Ltd.,
Shuggie Otis,
the Human League,
The Martian,
Sun Ra,
Spoonie Gee,
Funkadelic,
The Gladiators,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Wake,
Public Enemy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wings,
Circle Jerks,
Jeff Mills,
Depeche Mode,
Little Man,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Stiv Bators,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter and Kerry,
New York Dolls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Index,
Todd Rundgren,
The Doors,
Iggy Pop,
Slave,
Newcleus,
The Smiths,
Marine Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.