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 Brunei and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Robert Wyatt to the rap 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Deadbeat,
Bootsy Collins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Basic Channel,
Heaven 17,
Blake Baxter,
Rufus Thomas,
Mr. Review,
Banda Bassotti,
Ten City,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reuben Wilson,
The Skatalites,
Scrapy,
One Last Wish,
Bill Wells,
Lou Christie,
The Slackers,
The Selecter,
Monolake,
Funkadelic,
T.S.O.L.,
Wire,
AZ,
The Music Machine,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The American Breed,
10cc,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cramps,
Davy DMX,
Todd Terry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacques Brel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Whodini,
X-102,
Marvin Gaye,
Sixth Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
Cybotron,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Erasure,
Arab on Radar,
Letta Mbulu,
David Bowie,
John Coltrane,
Zapp,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Certain Ratio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mark Hollis,
The Cowsills,
Q65,
Steve Hackett,
Peter and Kerry,
Metal Thangz,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.