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 Madagascar and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sister Nancy to the electroclash 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rites of Spring,
Rapeman,
New Order,
Moss Icon,
Smog,
The Invisible,
Amon Düül,
Outsiders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Normal,
Rakim,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dirtbombs,
Bauhaus,
Maurizio,
The J.B.'s,
Banda Bassotti,
John Holt,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Schoolly D,
Lightning Bolt,
Harmonia,
Deakin,
Dead Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Slick Rick,
Cal Tjader,
The Busters,
Max Romeo,
James White and The Blacks,
B.T. Express,
Moby Grape,
Fat Boys,
Todd Terry,
Crash Course in Science,
Youth Brigade,
the Germs,
Lucky Dragons,
Frankie Knuckles,
Von Mondo,
Parry Music,
The Index,
Soul Sonic Force,
Faust,
Gregory Isaacs,
Delta 5,
Alice Coltrane,
Suicide,
Cluster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lakeside,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Excepter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dual Sessions,
Brick,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.