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 Colombia and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 Lyres to the disco 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
The Gladiators,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arthur Verocai,
Roger Hodgson,
Massinfluence,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Faust,
Sun Ra,
New Order,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chris Corsano,
Altered Images,
Derrick Morgan,
The Victims,
Dead Boys,
The Smoke,
Easy Going,
Camberwell Now,
The Alarm Clocks,
Amazonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sonic Youth,
Mad Mike,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pagans,
The Fuzztones,
Second Layer,
Heaven 17,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
U.S. Maple,
OOIOO,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sonics,
Soft Cell,
Ponytail,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deakin,
the Association,
Eddi Front,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barry Ungar,
Skaos,
Carl Craig,
Kerri Chandler,
Con Funk Shun,
Bronski Beat,
Supertramp,
Jerry's Kids,
Monolake,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Stetsasonic,
Joe Finger,
X-102,
DNA,
New Age Steppers,
Robert Wyatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
CMW,
The Raincoats,
Lalo Schifrin,
Laurel Aitken,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.