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 Greece and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Funky Four + One to the techno 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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lindisfarne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Todd Terry,
Dave Gahan,
The New Christs,
Blancmange,
World's Most,
Maleditus Sound,
48th St. Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Star Department,
Adolescents,
The Red Krayola,
R.M.O.,
The Real Kids,
Slick Rick,
Lebanon Hanover,
X-Ray Spex,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gong,
Duran Duran,
Mars,
Marc Almond,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Boredoms,
The J.B.'s,
Crime,
Wire,
Black Pus,
Wasted Youth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Warsaw,
Severed Heads,
The Stooges,
Con Funk Shun,
Soft Cell,
Scott Walker,
Hashim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Graham Central Station,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crooked Eye,
Index,
The Fall,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Echospace,
Second Layer,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Porter Ricks,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.