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 Russia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 Gabor Szabo to the funk 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Loose Ends,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Chris & Cosey,
The Grass Roots,
The Selecter,
Mantronix,
Mad Mike,
Radio Birdman,
Bronski Beat,
Chris Corsano,
Theoretical Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
KRS-One,
Visage,
Pussy Galore,
Alphaville,
the Swans,
OOIOO,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
World's Most,
Letta Mbulu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
Soft Cell,
Morten Harket,
The Tremeloes,
Fear,
Royal Trux,
The Leaves,
The Cramps,
Black Pus,
Rapeman,
Khruangbin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
Juan Atkins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bluetip,
Delta 5,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wire,
Slave,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
L. Decosne,
The Cowsills,
Con Funk Shun,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Technova,
Steve Hackett,
The Moleskins,
The Last Poets,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eve St. Jones,
James White and The Blacks,
Yazoo,
Matthew Bourne,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.