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 Uzbekistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
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 Nile Rodgers 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 8 Eyed Spy to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
H. Thieme,
Peter & Gordon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
The Cure,
Faraquet,
R.M.O.,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Association,
Black Flag,
Delta 5,
Thee Headcoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Max Romeo,
Alphaville,
Bauhaus,
Guru Guru,
The Blackbyrds,
Maurizio,
Magazine,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Livin' Joy,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Byrd,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Warsaw,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cramps,
The Shadows of Knight,
Zapp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Infiniti,
Deadbeat,
Yazoo,
Nirvana,
Brand Nubian,
Monolake,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terrestrial Tones,
JFA,
Hasil Adkins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
OOIOO,
Scion,
The Music Machine,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blossom Toes,
The Names,
Derrick Morgan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cymande,
Gil Scott Heron,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.