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 Nepal and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 Charles Mingus to the rap 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Metal Thangz,
Minnie Riperton,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Christie,
The Fuzztones,
Clear Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marine Girls,
Motorama,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter & Gordon,
Whodini,
Harry Pussy,
Outsiders,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Laurel Aitken,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mandrill,
Fugazi,
Faraquet,
Maurizio,
Rosa Yemen,
Pulsallama,
Television Personalities,
Roger Hodgson,
Niagra,
Hasil Adkins,
Freddie Wadling,
Talk Talk,
Magma,
Eric Copeland,
Judy Mowatt,
D'Angelo,
Average White Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Deadbeat,
Icehouse,
Los Fastidios,
Fat Boys,
Soft Machine,
Newcleus,
Sun Ra,
Kayak,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Sherman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Association,
Eddi Front,
Agent Orange,
The Saints,
Massinfluence,
Hot Snakes,
Nils Olav,
Yellowson,
Intrusion,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultra Naté,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.