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 Guinea-Bissau and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 David Bowie 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 Amon Düül to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Howard Jones,
Charles Mingus,
Erasure,
The Gap Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Michelle Simonal,
Rufus Thomas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
cv313,
The Young Rascals,
PIL,
Glenn Branca,
R.M.O.,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Almond,
Freddie Wadling,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harmonia,
Maleditus Sound,
Procol Harum,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soft Cell,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Buckinghams,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pere Ubu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skarface,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Raincoats,
Carl Craig,
Quando Quango,
Tom Boy,
The Fire Engines,
The American Breed,
Derrick May,
June Days,
Aaron Thompson,
David Axelrod,
Pulsallama,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scrapy,
Flipper,
Motorama,
8 Eyed Spy,
These Immortal Souls,
La Düsseldorf,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ohio Players,
Patti Smith,
Faust,
Pole,
Goldenarms,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.