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 Bangladesh and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Maurizio 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Johnny Clarke,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Underground Resistance,
The Human League,
Sam Rivers,
Lower 48,
Rufus Thomas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Tears for Fears,
Lebanon Hanover,
Circle Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Monks,
Zapp,
Nik Kershaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Index,
Skriet,
Joensuu 1685,
Dawn Penn,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Max Romeo,
Sandy B,
The Music Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
The J.B.'s,
Terry Callier,
The Fuzztones,
Funky Four + One,
T. Rex,
Rites of Spring,
Roxette,
Wire,
The Zeros,
Leonard Cohen,
World's Most,
Pussy Galore,
E-Dancer,
The Stooges,
Howard Jones,
The Mummies,
Simply Red,
Lungfish,
Isaac Hayes,
Moss Icon,
Das Ding,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Standells,
Boz Scaggs,
Q and Not U,
Drexciya,
Groovy Waters,
Cameo,
Malaria!,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.