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 South Africa and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
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 rhodes 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 Cybotron to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Subhumans,
Pagans,
Make Up,
Brothers Johnson,
The Smoke,
Graham Central Station,
The Toasters,
Stereo Dub,
the Association,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Young Rascals,
Barrington Levy,
John Foxx,
The Raincoats,
The Saints,
Black Flag,
The Victims,
The Selecter,
Archie Shepp,
Tubeway Army,
Davy DMX,
U.S. Maple,
The Dirtbombs,
The Stooges,
Pierre Henry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ice-T,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Masters at Work,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Golliwogs,
Toni Rubio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun Ra,
Alison Limerick,
Vladislav Delay,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Trojans,
Public Enemy,
Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
Rotary Connection,
T. Rex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Loose Ends,
Chrome,
Mantronix,
La Düsseldorf,
Liliput,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lungfish,
Silicon Teens,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Angels of Light,
Groovy Waters,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.