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 Seychelles and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 the Sonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Johnny Clarke,
The Slackers,
Jesper Dahlback,
La Düsseldorf,
Rosa Yemen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Selecter,
Todd Terry,
Davy DMX,
Tomorrow,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Christie,
David Bowie,
Parry Music,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Darondo,
Goldenarms,
The Barracudas,
Vainqueur,
The Kinks,
The Dead C,
Con Funk Shun,
Fat Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Chrome,
Ralphi Rosario,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wasted Youth,
Pierre Henry,
L. Decosne,
Derrick Morgan,
Graham Central Station,
A Certain Ratio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
ABC,
Au Pairs,
Shuggie Otis,
Roxette,
Pussy Galore,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Television,
Radiohead,
Morten Harket,
The Five Americans,
Ultravox,
Ossler,
Jeff Mills,
Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Starr,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed,
Amazonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Erykah Badu,
Ronnie Foster,
The New Christs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.