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 Australia and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Martian to the disco 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joe Finger,
Boz Scaggs,
The Monochrome Set,
The Shadows of Knight,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Sonics,
T. Rex,
Outsiders,
Marc Almond,
Hot Snakes,
The Smiths,
Soul II Soul,
Accadde A,
Josef K,
Spandau Ballet,
Cecil Taylor,
John Lydon,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultra Naté,
Bush Tetras,
Donny Hathaway,
Liliput,
Robert Hood,
David Bowie,
Youth Brigade,
This Heat,
Japan,
The Index,
Circle Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Rod Modell,
Cluster,
Sonic Youth,
China Crisis,
Lyres,
Dave Gahan,
Model 500,
The Saints,
Brass Construction,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dark Day,
Fugazi,
The Offenders,
The Standells,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mission of Burma,
Aaron Thompson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Derrick May,
Desert Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Wyatt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Altered Images,
Al Stewart,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Stooges,
Crime,
Black Pus,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.