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 Tonga and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Cramps to the funk 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter and Kerry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Magma,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
Khruangbin,
The Pop Group,
The Happenings,
the Slits,
Colin Newman,
Drive Like Jehu,
Funkadelic,
Darondo,
Cymande,
Unrelated Segments,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
Rekid,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sonics,
The Pretty Things,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Guru Guru,
Johnny Clarke,
Procol Harum,
Inner City,
The American Breed,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dirtbombs,
Moby Grape,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crime,
Robert Görl,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Surgeon,
T.S.O.L.,
Pole,
Outsiders,
MC5,
Terry Callier,
Underground Resistance,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Durutti Column,
The Victims,
The Smoke,
Audionom,
LL Cool J,
The Five Americans,
DJ Style,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rosa Yemen,
Faraquet,
K-Klass,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.