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 Jordan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
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 Ituana to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
The Mojo Men,
Q65,
Lightning Bolt,
PIL,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Christie,
The Barracudas,
Lyres,
The Cowsills,
Boz Scaggs,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vainqueur,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
UT,
Ossler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Patti Smith,
Parry Music,
Johnny Clarke,
The Smiths,
Shuggie Otis,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sight & Sound,
Qualms,
Young Marble Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
Bush Tetras,
Mantronix,
Rekid,
Yazoo,
Popol Vuh,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bob Dylan,
Matthew Bourne,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sun City Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Flamin' Groovies,
Carl Craig,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cramps,
Soul II Soul,
Joe Finger,
Pole,
the Slits,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ludus,
Neu!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
T.S.O.L.,
In Retrospect,
The United States of America,
The Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
Donald Byrd,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.