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 Germany and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 EPMD to the rap 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Funkadelic,
Public Enemy,
John Holt,
The New Christs,
The Happenings,
Marvin Gaye,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kerri Chandler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Severed Heads,
Scrapy,
Buzzcocks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Parry Music,
the Sonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hasil Adkins,
Wally Richardson,
Letta Mbulu,
Loose Ends,
Outsiders,
Heaven 17,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Porter Ricks,
Royal Trux,
The Dead C,
Avey Tare,
Erasure,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Mummies,
Juan Atkins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Absolute Body Control,
Camouflage,
Guru Guru,
Gang Starr,
The Standells,
Wasted Youth,
Desert Stars,
Angry Samoans,
Fugazi,
Patti Smith,
10cc,
Nico,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Shoche,
Adolescents,
Althea and Donna,
Arcadia,
Eurythmics,
Boredoms,
Surgeon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Drexciya,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nirvana,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.