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 Chad and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 E-Dancer to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Trumans Water,
Tres Demented,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ornette Coleman,
Audionom,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Durutti Column,
In Retrospect,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
Section 25,
Soft Cell,
Severed Heads,
Faraquet,
Sam Rivers,
The Victims,
The Gladiators,
David McCallum,
Danielle Patucci,
The Remains,
Echospace,
The Sonics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fear,
the Bar-Kays,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fela Kuti,
Flash Fearless,
The Standells,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Clarke,
Judy Mowatt,
Bad Manners,
Janne Schatter,
The Offenders,
The Walker Brothers,
Suburban Knight,
Swans,
The Pretty Things,
The Divine Comedy,
Ten City,
Stereo Dub,
Icehouse,
Pantytec,
PIL,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fugs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sparks,
John Lydon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gabor Szabo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tomorrow,
Country Teasers,
Moby Grape,
Joensuu 1685,
Thompson Twins,
Godley & Creme,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.