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 Jordan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 United States of America to the techno 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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Fuzztones,
Juan Atkins,
Yazoo,
Carl Craig,
Mark Hollis,
Gang of Four,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Order,
The Blackbyrds,
L. Decosne,
Scan 7,
Desert Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
Youth Brigade,
Sight & Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Boredoms,
Pole,
Kaleidoscope,
Public Enemy,
The Residents,
Amon Düül,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kayak,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Al Stewart,
Dual Sessions,
Maleditus Sound,
Section 25,
Goldenarms,
Hot Snakes,
The Mummies,
Brick,
Gabor Szabo,
Lungfish,
Franke,
Gil Scott Heron,
H. Thieme,
The Doors,
Bill Wells,
Bob Dylan,
Thee Headcoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
Freddie Wadling,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Young Rascals,
Donald Byrd,
David Axelrod,
Banda Bassotti,
Chris & Cosey,
Faraquet,
Silicon Teens,
Pagans,
Stereo Dub,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.