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 Maldives and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Nation of Ulysses to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scott Walker,
Guru Guru,
This Heat,
Sexual Harrassment,
PIL,
Cybotron,
The Moleskins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Al Stewart,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brick,
Davy DMX,
Audionom,
Masters at Work,
Prince Buster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Country Teasers,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Standells,
Traffic Nightmare,
Intrusion,
Depeche Mode,
Carl Craig,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fatback Band,
The Saints,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Remains,
Man Parrish,
Gong,
Archie Shepp,
X-102,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Toasters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scratch Acid,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Janne Schatter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Royal Trux,
Angry Samoans,
Mad Mike,
World's Most,
DJ Style,
Donny Hathaway,
Von Mondo,
Public Enemy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wolf Eyes,
The Misunderstood,
Niagra,
The Fortunes,
T. Rex,
Peter & Gordon,
Matthew Halsall,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.