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 Uganda and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 Warren Ellis to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The Associates 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Residents,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pole,
Glenn Branca,
Banda Bassotti,
Dave Gahan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Golliwogs,
Echospace,
Bush Tetras,
Dark Day,
Rites of Spring,
Cymande,
UT,
The Black Dice,
These Immortal Souls,
The Happenings,
Can,
The Smoke,
Symarip,
T. Rex,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Skatalites,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dawn Penn,
Jeru the Damaja,
Organ,
The Moleskins,
Vainqueur,
Jeff Mills,
Radio Birdman,
John Holt,
Dorothy Ashby,
a-ha,
Man Parrish,
X-102,
DJ Sneak,
Terry Callier,
Camberwell Now,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cal Tjader,
Anakelly,
KRS-One,
Crooked Eye,
the Germs,
The Victims,
EPMD,
Skarface,
Andrew Hill,
Boz Scaggs,
Arab on Radar,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Judy Mowatt,
The Toasters,
Lou Christie,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lakeside,
Rosa Yemen,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.