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 Malta and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marshall Jefferson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suicide,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Iggy Pop,
The Move,
Ultravox,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cal Tjader,
Moss Icon,
Organ,
Pere Ubu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gap Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlback,
Camouflage,
Quando Quango,
OOIOO,
PIL,
Khruangbin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rapeman,
Wolf Eyes,
Moby Grape,
Jeff Mills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
10cc,
Morten Harket,
Ten City,
X-Ray Spex,
Subhumans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nico,
Amon Düül II,
The Trojans,
Anthony Braxton,
The Knickerbockers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bob Dylan,
Country Teasers,
Glenn Branca,
Fort Wilson Riot,
a-ha,
Boz Scaggs,
Das Ding,
Roger Hodgson,
Scion,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mission of Burma,
Radiohead,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nirvana,
Steve Hackett,
Pantytec,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kenny Larkin,
Lalann,
Yusef Lateef,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.