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 Colombia and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Depeche Mode,
Tres Demented,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Moody Blues,
Visage,
the Slits,
Second Layer,
Scion,
Ponytail,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Radiopuhelimet,
Goldenarms,
Iggy Pop,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scratch Acid,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Sheep,
Oblivians,
DNA,
Jeff Lynne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sight & Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Camouflage,
The Offenders,
Nils Olav,
Reagan Youth,
The J.B.'s,
PIL,
Negative Approach,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
The Kinks,
The Moleskins,
Guru Guru,
Todd Rundgren,
Blancmange,
Little Man,
Urselle,
Jawbox,
John Foxx,
The Remains,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Henry Cow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ossler,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Qualms,
Peter and Kerry,
Barbara Tucker,
Suburban Knight,
Siglo XX,
The Smoke,
DJ Style,
CMW,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.