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 Bulgaria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Panda Bear 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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Thompson Twins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Todd Terry,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gichy Dan,
The Offenders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
June of 44,
Ossler,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Slits,
Black Moon,
Liliput,
Swell Maps,
Nik Kershaw,
Joey Negro,
Cameo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Don Cherry,
Roxette,
Livin' Joy,
Ken Boothe,
Rites of Spring,
the Association,
The Fall,
Davy DMX,
Funky Four + One,
FM Einheit,
The Wake,
Metal Thangz,
Bizarre Inc.,
Altered Images,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Inner City,
The Evens,
D'Angelo,
the Bar-Kays,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pantaleimon,
Negative Approach,
Index,
The Five Americans,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Lydon,
Swans,
The Searchers,
Dark Day,
Sandy B,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Harry Pussy,
Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
Stiv Bators,
Slick Rick,
Second Layer,
Freddie Wadling,
Jawbox,
Juan Atkins,
Mr. Review,
Bill Near,
Mandrill,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.