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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dave Gahan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
The Golliwogs,
Aaron Thompson,
Harry Pussy,
Rakim,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
Erasure,
Porter Ricks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soul II Soul,
DJ Style,
Amon Düül,
The Raincoats,
Motorama,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gladiators,
Dark Day,
Roy Ayers,
Ice-T,
Marvin Gaye,
Neil Young,
Albert Ayler,
The Saints,
Royal Trux,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
Erykah Badu,
Japan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grauzone,
K-Klass,
The Gories,
The Mojo Men,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marcia Griffiths,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeff Lynne,
Sexual Harrassment,
T. Rex,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Fuzztones,
Can,
The Human League,
OOIOO,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Five Americans,
Rotary Connection,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Smoke,
Josef K,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blake Baxter,
Pagans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Smog,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.