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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Slackers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Surgeon,
Ornette Coleman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monolake,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wire,
Soft Cell,
Clear Light,
Susan Cadogan,
John Cale,
Dennis Brown,
Young Marble Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anakelly,
Darondo,
The Selecter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Electric Prunes,
The Remains,
Yusef Lateef,
Letta Mbulu,
The Buckinghams,
Tom Boy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Parry Music,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ice-T,
Shuggie Otis,
Eli Mardock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Soft Cell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Arab on Radar,
Yaz,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Young Rascals,
Alphaville,
Mary Jane Girls,
Loose Ends,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Morten Harket,
David Axelrod,
Ohio Players,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Grass Roots,
These Immortal Souls,
Thompson Twins,
Boredoms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pole,
Charles Mingus,
Little Man,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bronski Beat,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Seeds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.