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 Greece and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Dennis Brown to the jazz 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Joyce Sims,
Harry Pussy,
Organ,
Smog,
LL Cool J,
the Sonics,
Eden Ahbez,
Tom Boy,
The Misunderstood,
Matthew Bourne,
FM Einheit,
Section 25,
K-Klass,
Ohio Players,
Spandau Ballet,
Davy DMX,
Grauzone,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sandy B,
The Moleskins,
Godley & Creme,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kenny Larkin,
KRS-One,
Erykah Badu,
The Fortunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Freddie Wadling,
Sexual Harrassment,
Royal Trux,
Soft Cell,
The Dead C,
The Remains,
John Foxx,
Drexciya,
Colin Newman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Carl Craig,
Warsaw,
Alton Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bush Tetras,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Association,
Faraquet,
Anakelly,
The New Christs,
Can,
Crime,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harmonia,
Amon Düül II,
the Swans,
Eric Copeland,
The Neon Judgement,
Skarface,
Rapeman,
Lyres,
Black Pus,
Thee Headcoats,
Minny Pops,
Cameo,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.