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 Iran and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
China Crisis,
Duran Duran,
John Coltrane,
John Foxx,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alison Limerick,
Loose Ends,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alton Ellis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boz Scaggs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kerri Chandler,
James White and The Blacks,
The Angels of Light,
Banda Bassotti,
Inner City,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ponytail,
The Cramps,
Connie Case,
CMW,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Public Enemy,
Make Up,
AZ,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chris Corsano,
Isaac Hayes,
Barbara Tucker,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kurtis Blow,
Thompson Twins,
The Fall,
FM Einheit,
Spandau Ballet,
Graham Central Station,
10cc,
Judy Mowatt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Toasters,
Ice-T,
The Blackbyrds,
Warren Ellis,
The Skatalites,
Rotary Connection,
Monks,
Little Man,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pantytec,
The Gun Club,
Mars,
Suburban Knight,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scientists,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Freddie Wadling,
Hasil Adkins,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.