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 Azerbaijan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the grime 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
the Soft Cell,
Brass Construction,
Fatback Band,
Public Enemy,
Crooked Eye,
The Durutti Column,
Steve Hackett,
Wolf Eyes,
Joensuu 1685,
the Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blossom Toes,
Archie Shepp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cowsills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dead C,
Bootsy Collins,
Make Up,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
LL Cool J,
Toni Rubio,
K-Klass,
Main Source,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rufus Thomas,
Dawn Penn,
Patti Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pere Ubu,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sam Rivers,
A Certain Ratio,
Tommy Roe,
Tomorrow,
Pussy Galore,
Ultravox,
Television Personalities,
The Electric Prunes,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
The Remains,
Outsiders,
Yellowson,
Ten City,
Don Cherry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
FM Einheit,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mo-Dettes,
Von Mondo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cal Tjader,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Glenn Branca,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Searchers,
Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
The Red Krayola,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.