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 Chile and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Judy Mowatt to the rap 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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
H. Thieme,
Sight & Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Niagra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jawbox,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Stooges,
Bronski Beat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Unwound,
Alice Coltrane,
Kayak,
Excepter,
New York Dolls,
Black Pus,
Freddie Wadling,
Sandy B,
Liliput,
Terry Callier,
The Move,
Little Man,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cameo,
Khruangbin,
Funkadelic,
Chris & Cosey,
Motorama,
Mandrill,
Charles Mingus,
Los Fastidios,
Monolake,
Black Moon,
Derrick May,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Q65,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Blackbyrds,
Piero Umiliani,
Howard Jones,
Tom Boy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roy Ayers,
Von Mondo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soft Cell,
MC5,
Gregory Isaacs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hardrive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nation of Ulysses,
10cc,
The Modern Lovers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Josef K,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.