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 San Marino and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marvin Gaye to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Rakim,
Don Cherry,
The Cure,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Oblivians,
Magazine,
Todd Terry,
Graham Central Station,
Monks,
The Selecter,
The Toasters,
Mark Hollis,
Television Personalities,
Fat Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
The Associates,
The Dave Clark Five,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sight & Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
Q and Not U,
Gerry Rafferty,
Patti Smith,
Robert Hood,
L. Decosne,
Lalann,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Foxx,
Aaron Thompson,
OOIOO,
These Immortal Souls,
Depeche Mode,
Man Parrish,
Reuben Wilson,
Royal Trux,
The Standells,
Sparks,
Colin Newman,
Stetsasonic,
Crooked Eye,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABC,
June of 44,
F. McDonald,
Aloha Tigers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Black Dice,
Wally Richardson,
EPMD,
Mad Mike,
Heaven 17,
Young Marble Giants,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.