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 Angola and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
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 spring reverb 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 Happenings to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Frankie Knuckles,
Byron Stingily,
A Certain Ratio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skriet,
Cal Tjader,
Blake Baxter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roxy Music,
Anthony Braxton,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Idris Muhammad,
Lakeside,
The Fuzztones,
Sam Rivers,
Roger Hodgson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
AZ,
Stetsasonic,
Grandmaster Flash,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barry Ungar,
Los Fastidios,
Mars,
Masters at Work,
The Vogues,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dawn Penn,
Radio Birdman,
Scientists,
Black Moon,
Deakin,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Walker Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
Junior Murvin,
Accadde A,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tom Boy,
Icehouse,
the Slits,
Flash Fearless,
Maleditus Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aural Exciters,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marc Almond,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Coltrane,
Lucky Dragons,
Terry Callier,
The Pop Group,
Monolake,
Groovy Waters,
Joey Negro,
Lightning Bolt,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.