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 Armenia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Nile Rodgers 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 DJ Style to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Glenn Branca,
Stiv Bators,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Con Funk Shun,
Gabor Szabo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Duran Duran,
The Motions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ten City,
The Smoke,
Freddie Wadling,
Erykah Badu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ponytail,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rakim,
Black Moon,
Delta 5,
John Lydon,
Shoche,
Thompson Twins,
Howard Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
Smog,
Fat Boys,
Marmalade,
Barry Ungar,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yellowson,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
Eric Dolphy,
New Order,
the Swans,
Model 500,
Amazonics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marvin Gaye,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cure,
Hoover,
Colin Newman,
Rapeman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minnie Riperton,
Scratch Acid,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ludus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Litter,
Fugazi,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harmonia,
Ronnie Foster,
Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Neu!,
The Angels of Light,
the Normal,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.