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 Bahrain and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 the Swans to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Monochrome Set,
The Move,
Mandrill,
Roy Ayers,
Laurel Aitken,
Yaz,
Alison Limerick,
Crispy Ambulance,
JFA,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Flag,
Procol Harum,
The Litter,
10cc,
The Electric Prunes,
Mars,
Wolf Eyes,
Rapeman,
Aural Exciters,
The Birthday Party,
Iggy Pop,
John Holt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Isaac Hayes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Soul Sonic Force,
Inner City,
New York Dolls,
L. Decosne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Modern Lovers,
Cheater Slicks,
Babytalk,
Alice Coltrane,
Lucky Dragons,
John Coltrane,
Loose Ends,
Jacob Miller,
The Associates,
Tommy Roe,
Maleditus Sound,
The Angels of Light,
E-Dancer,
Pagans,
FM Einheit,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Q and Not U,
Flash Fearless,
Tim Buckley,
Chrome,
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Simply Red,
The Music Machine,
The Mummies,
Surgeon,
The Cure,
Tom Boy,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.