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 Togo and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 rhodes 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 Harry Pussy to the grime 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Byron Stingily,
Terry Callier,
The Zeros,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
UT,
Angry Samoans,
Nik Kershaw,
Gong,
Tom Boy,
Slick Rick,
The Smoke,
Accadde A,
Andrew Hill,
Drexciya,
Swell Maps,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
New Age Steppers,
Camouflage,
Maleditus Sound,
kango's stein massive,
Jawbox,
Desert Stars,
Audionom,
Guru Guru,
Carl Craig,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Outsiders,
Bill Near,
the Human League,
Radio Birdman,
Delta 5,
Sight & Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Remains,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Wyatt,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultra Naté,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-Ray Spex,
The Happenings,
Unwound,
Morten Harket,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ken Boothe,
T. Rex,
Maurizio,
Isaac Hayes,
The J.B.'s,
Icehouse,
Soft Cell,
Quadrant,
The Electric Prunes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Buzzcocks,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.