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 Panama 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Icehouse to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
The Fugs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fear,
The Flesh Eaters,
Reuben Wilson,
Fad Gadget,
Jimmy McGriff,
Motorama,
The Smiths,
The Cowsills,
Deakin,
AZ,
Steve Hackett,
Technova,
Surgeon,
Gong,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Smoke,
The Fuzztones,
Jeru the Damaja,
In Retrospect,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Slits,
Freddie Wadling,
Nico,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Names,
Marine Girls,
Alice Coltrane,
Todd Rundgren,
Outsiders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Half Japanese,
DJ Style,
Alphaville,
Easy Going,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sex Pistols,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Glambeats Corp.,
Zero Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Babytalk,
Charles Mingus,
JFA,
Harmonia,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Moby Grape,
Chrome,
Dawn Penn,
The Blues Magoos,
Niagra,
Moebius,
Gabor Szabo,
Nirvana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bush Tetras,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.