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 Cambodia and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Michael McDonald 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the techno 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Audionom,
Fluxion,
Franke,
Aural Exciters,
Hoover,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Monks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Thompson Twins,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Amon Düül,
The Divine Comedy,
Hasil Adkins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Michelle Simonal,
Kerrie Biddell,
Visage,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Spoonie Gee,
Essential Logic,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Stooges,
Traffic Nightmare,
Los Fastidios,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gong,
Bluetip,
ABC,
Alice Coltrane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grey Daturas,
The Move,
Neil Young,
Siglo XX,
Quantec,
Sex Pistols,
Graham Central Station,
China Crisis,
The Barracudas,
Arcadia,
Susan Cadogan,
June of 44,
Soulsonic Force,
Massinfluence,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Glenn Branca,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mo-Dettes,
Dead Boys,
Mr. Review,
Ronnie Foster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.