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 Nigeria and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bluetip to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Barbara Tucker,
Archie Shepp,
Idris Muhammad,
Faust,
June Days,
the Slits,
Pierre Henry,
Ronan,
Essential Logic,
Jimmy McGriff,
Judy Mowatt,
Derrick Morgan,
The Velvet Underground,
Circle Jerks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Khruangbin,
Althea and Donna,
Heaven 17,
Crooked Eye,
Ultra Naté,
Little Man,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lalann,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Standells,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jawbox,
John Coltrane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pharoah Sanders,
Y Pants,
Aloha Tigers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dark Day,
Colin Newman,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Oblivians,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Japan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rhythm & Sound,
ABC,
Rosa Yemen,
U.S. Maple,
Desert Stars,
Bronski Beat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kaleidoscope,
Dave Gahan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
cv313,
Rites of Spring,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
F. McDonald,
Average White Band,
The Angels of Light,
Clear Light,
Robert Hood,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.