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 Sierra Leone and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gabor Szabo to the rock 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Slackers,
The Misunderstood,
The Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sister Nancy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ossler,
the Bar-Kays,
Frankie Knuckles,
The United States of America,
Amon Düül II,
The Electric Prunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ronan,
Procol Harum,
Eli Mardock,
Blancmange,
Tropical Tobacco,
Juan Atkins,
Junior Murvin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Matthew Halsall,
Lower 48,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare,
Accadde A,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brand Nubian,
MDC,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Average White Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Vladislav Delay,
Technova,
Second Layer,
Aural Exciters,
The Young Rascals,
Crash Course in Science,
Sonic Youth,
Sparks,
Amon Düül,
Lindisfarne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Faust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bob Dylan,
The Move,
UT,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Darondo,
The Motions,
The Golliwogs,
Aloha Tigers,
Desert Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ituana,
Zapp,
Niagra,
Archie Shepp,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Divine Comedy,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.