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 Papua New Guinea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Iggy Pop,
Half Japanese,
Chrome,
Joey Negro,
The Victims,
The Modern Lovers,
Radio Birdman,
Index,
Slave,
Franke,
Anakelly,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Offenders,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Fugs,
Marmalade,
Rakim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Little Man,
Joe Finger,
Joyce Sims,
Pantytec,
China Crisis,
Scientists,
Eden Ahbez,
Blossom Toes,
The Durutti Column,
Scion,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sonics,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Sound,
Funky Four + One,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Starr,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
AZ,
Prince Buster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
R.M.O.,
Bad Manners,
Sarah Menescal,
Mad Mike,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Zero Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joy Division,
Lower 48,
Barbara Tucker,
Tom Boy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eurythmics,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.