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 Korea North and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar 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 Tres Demented to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
FM Einheit,
X-101,
Agent Orange,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joensuu 1685,
Franke,
Aswad,
The Wake,
Fat Boys,
Lindisfarne,
Mr. Review,
Leonard Cohen,
Aural Exciters,
Tom Boy,
Oneida,
Nirvana,
Flipper,
cv313,
Dead Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Organ,
Jimmy McGriff,
Trumans Water,
K-Klass,
Whodini,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wings,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dual Sessions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ludus,
Groovy Waters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crooked Eye,
Connie Case,
Television,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radio Birdman,
U.S. Maple,
Mad Mike,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mandrill,
Infiniti,
Ronnie Foster,
Hashim,
Buzzcocks,
Faraquet,
Moss Icon,
Schoolly D,
Moebius,
Boredoms,
Rakim,
Desert Stars,
Alton Ellis,
Panda Bear,
Albert Ayler,
Arthur Verocai,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.