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 Grenada and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare 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 Lonnie Liston Smith 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The Skatalites,
Crispy Ambulance,
This Heat,
Slave,
The Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Mojo Men,
The Young Rascals,
Lakeside,
Audionom,
Marmalade,
The Techniques,
Echospace,
Yellowson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
T.S.O.L.,
Ken Boothe,
EPMD,
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
Cecil Taylor,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Reed,
The Fuzztones,
The Names,
Duran Duran,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare,
Schoolly D,
Sam Rivers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Cell,
Alison Limerick,
Swans,
Laurel Aitken,
Freddie Wadling,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Y Pants,
Sandy B,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Amon Düül II,
New Age Steppers,
Basic Channel,
The Sonics,
The Barracudas,
Robert Wyatt,
B.T. Express,
Con Funk Shun,
Boredoms,
Pantaleimon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rufus Thomas,
These Immortal Souls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Drexciya,
Skriet,
Alton Ellis,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.