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 Korea South and from Edmonton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Bluetip to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Donald Byrd,
Juan Atkins,
Cymande,
The Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Lucky Dragons,
T. Rex,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lightning Bolt,
OOIOO,
Terrestrial Tones,
Funkadelic,
Cheater Slicks,
Bob Dylan,
Silicon Teens,
Pet Shop Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Toni Rubio,
Pagans,
Bill Wells,
The Monks,
Sun City Girls,
The Saints,
Pussy Galore,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Birthday Party,
Malaria!,
Guru Guru,
Black Bananas,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Leaves,
Japan,
E-Dancer,
Lou Reed,
Niagra,
Ronnie Foster,
Sällskapet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dirtbombs,
New York Dolls,
Kurtis Blow,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultra Naté,
Peter & Gordon,
Skaos,
Grey Daturas,
Boredoms,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sonic Youth,
The Pop Group,
Suburban Knight,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Soul II Soul,
Buzzcocks,
Nirvana,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Normal,
Kaleidoscope,
Avey Tare,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.