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 Laos and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 The Mummies to the electroclash 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
cv313,
Albert Ayler,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Derrick May,
The Five Americans,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Lydon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Young Rascals,
Don Cherry,
The Zeros,
Ohio Players,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soulsonic Force,
The Monks,
Roger Hodgson,
The Grass Roots,
The Moleskins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeff Mills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Anthony Braxton,
Boz Scaggs,
The Saints,
The Wake,
Talk Talk,
Sexual Harrassment,
Morten Harket,
Jandek,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Angry Samoans,
Sun City Girls,
Scratch Acid,
Depeche Mode,
Circle Jerks,
Half Japanese,
The Cramps,
Shuggie Otis,
Wally Richardson,
the Normal,
The Red Krayola,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aural Exciters,
Josef K,
New Order,
The Angels of Light,
World's Most,
The Smoke,
June of 44,
The Names,
Electric Prunes,
Royal Trux,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scientists,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soft Cell,
Mars,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.