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 Swaziland and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sly & The Family Stone 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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Joy Division,
Chris & Cosey,
Tommy Roe,
The Golliwogs,
the Bar-Kays,
Harmonia,
Das Ding,
Kool Moe Dee,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Crooked Eye,
Sam Rivers,
D'Angelo,
Ultra Naté,
Delon & Dalcan,
Basic Channel,
Jeff Mills,
Negative Approach,
June of 44,
Supertramp,
CMW,
Anthony Braxton,
Barry Ungar,
Bush Tetras,
Wally Richardson,
Moebius,
Carl Craig,
Man Eating Sloth,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Görl,
Monks,
Whodini,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pagans,
Simply Red,
Gichy Dan,
The Moody Blues,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Connie Case,
Gastr Del Sol,
Little Man,
Wasted Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
E-Dancer,
Peter and Kerry,
Parry Music,
Babytalk,
Franke,
Sugar Minott,
The Count Five,
Section 25,
Skriet,
the Germs,
Camberwell Now,
Marine Girls,
Adolescents,
Flamin' Groovies,
Audionom,
Jerry's Kids,
Amazonics,
Visage,
The Pretty Things,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.