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 Greece and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Terry Callier to the dance 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Patti Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Buzzcocks,
the Normal,
Barbara Tucker,
Ossler,
Laurel Aitken,
Blancmange,
Radiohead,
Whodini,
John Lydon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ludus,
Ultravox,
Amazonics,
Guru Guru,
The Red Krayola,
Junior Murvin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lakeside,
Arab on Radar,
the Slits,
Grandmaster Flash,
Michelle Simonal,
Subhumans,
Negative Approach,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arcadia,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fad Gadget,
Youth Brigade,
Rapeman,
Minny Pops,
Darondo,
Funkadelic,
Leonard Cohen,
U.S. Maple,
DNA,
Crooked Eye,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cure,
Donald Byrd,
Cymande,
Lyres,
Howard Jones,
Zero Boys,
K-Klass,
Pole,
Robert Hood,
Byron Stingily,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lucky Dragons,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
This Heat,
Pylon,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.