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 Iran and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator 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 The Martian to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '70s.
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 The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Livin' Joy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stetsasonic,
Shuggie Otis,
Sparks,
Wolf Eyes,
Hardrive,
The Birthday Party,
Jacob Miller,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James White and The Blacks,
La Düsseldorf,
Monks,
Mission of Burma,
The Barracudas,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Stereo Dub,
Wings,
10cc,
Pantaleimon,
The Leaves,
Hoover,
Au Pairs,
Altered Images,
Rufus Thomas,
Q and Not U,
Drexciya,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Moon,
Mars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Althea and Donna,
Visage,
Fatback Band,
Oneida,
Scion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Excepter,
Section 25,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sällskapet,
Ornette Coleman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Masters at Work,
Joensuu 1685,
D'Angelo,
Don Cherry,
Sound Behaviour,
Popol Vuh,
Eurythmics,
Boredoms,
Dark Day,
Darondo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bauhaus,
Infiniti,
The Doobie Brothers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.