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 Georgia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Joy Division,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stereo Dub,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Standells,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Zapp,
The Martian,
Lou Christie,
Schoolly D,
Lyres,
The Alarm Clocks,
UT,
Neu!,
The Seeds,
Mars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Chris Corsano,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Index,
The American Breed,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cymande,
The Techniques,
Black Flag,
Barry Ungar,
Althea and Donna,
The Knickerbockers,
The Trojans,
The Beau Brummels,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wally Richardson,
The Fugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Names,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Make Up,
Tres Demented,
Nation of Ulysses,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Duran Duran,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shuggie Otis,
Gabor Szabo,
The Birthday Party,
Rites of Spring,
Bauhaus,
Procol Harum,
Television,
Jawbox,
Warsaw,
Eli Mardock,
Agent Orange,
The Leaves,
Goldenarms,
John Foxx,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.