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 Lebanon and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe 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 The Move to the disco 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Janne Schatter,
Gichy Dan,
the Germs,
These Immortal Souls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
Minutemen,
The United States of America,
Juan Atkins,
Maleditus Sound,
Ice-T,
The Saints,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Althea and Donna,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-102,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sound,
Accadde A,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Gong,
Lou Christie,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shuggie Otis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Slick Rick,
The Count Five,
Don Cherry,
Supertramp,
The Busters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rakim,
Liliput,
Robert Hood,
New Age Steppers,
the Association,
Grey Daturas,
Duran Duran,
The Star Department,
Eve St. Jones,
Aural Exciters,
The Toasters,
The Skatalites,
Deakin,
Nik Kershaw,
Mission of Burma,
Ten City,
Public Enemy,
Black Moon,
Audionom,
Jandek,
Albert Ayler,
The Buckinghams,
Urselle,
Pulsallama,
The Modern Lovers,
Funkadelic,
Soul Sonic Force,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.