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 Sudan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Darondo to the dance 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Heaven 17,
Gregory Isaacs,
Theoretical Girls,
Quadrant,
The Slackers,
The Smiths,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
KRS-One,
Arthur Verocai,
Oneida,
Roy Ayers,
Ken Boothe,
B.T. Express,
Urselle,
Minny Pops,
Gabor Szabo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gong,
The Black Dice,
K-Klass,
Angry Samoans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Wake,
The Seeds,
the Bar-Kays,
Faraquet,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Certain Ratio,
Dennis Brown,
Slave,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Howard Jones,
Cluster,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Josef K,
Spandau Ballet,
Chrome,
Joyce Sims,
X-Ray Spex,
Duran Duran,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra,
Parry Music,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scott Walker,
The Grass Roots,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Man Parrish,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Count Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
X-102,
Nico,
Subhumans,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.