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 Italy and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 The Victims to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Desert Stars,
Tres Demented,
The Young Rascals,
The Kinks,
Oneida,
James White and The Blacks,
Tubeway Army,
Aloha Tigers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camberwell Now,
Lee Hazlewood,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sandy B,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rakim,
Talk Talk,
Cybotron,
Echospace,
Sound Behaviour,
Brand Nubian,
Janne Schatter,
Stiv Bators,
Cheater Slicks,
Derrick May,
Bob Dylan,
10cc,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Bananas,
Tom Boy,
Accadde A,
Warren Ellis,
Massinfluence,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-102,
The Neon Judgement,
Arab on Radar,
Shuggie Otis,
Sun Ra,
The Music Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blossom Toes,
The Gories,
Howard Jones,
The Sonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eddi Front,
Rod Modell,
Oblivians,
John Coltrane,
Niagra,
Half Japanese,
Connie Case,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Agent Orange,
The Misunderstood,
Marine Girls,
Drexciya,
Arcadia,
The Knickerbockers,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.