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 Nepal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Infiniti to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Motorama,
Bill Wells,
Subhumans,
Rod Modell,
Depeche Mode,
Wolf Eyes,
Parry Music,
Piero Umiliani,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mr. Review,
Dennis Brown,
Eurythmics,
The Dirtbombs,
Sixth Finger,
The Golliwogs,
Delta 5,
Black Sheep,
The Five Americans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Maurizio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Banda Bassotti,
The Evens,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sarah Menescal,
The Busters,
Dead Boys,
Mark Hollis,
Jawbox,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Anthony Braxton,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fela Kuti,
Sparks,
Aloha Tigers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tim Buckley,
The Motions,
Eddi Front,
Television Personalities,
Rapeman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hot Snakes,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultra Naté,
Audionom,
The Last Poets,
Skarface,
Sun Ra,
The Blackbyrds,
Model 500,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Robert Görl,
Technova,
Suicide,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.