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 Australia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Kurtis Blow to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Panda Bear,
Little Man,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Victims,
The Mummies,
Severed Heads,
Inner City,
Tubeway Army,
Lyres,
Monks,
Funky Four + One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Au Pairs,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Skatalites,
The Last Poets,
The New Christs,
Maurizio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soft Cell,
Lou Reed,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harry Pussy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jeff Mills,
MC5,
Shuggie Otis,
The Young Rascals,
Curtis Mayfield,
In Retrospect,
The Fuzztones,
Ultra Naté,
Gerry Rafferty,
T. Rex,
China Crisis,
Boz Scaggs,
Spandau Ballet,
Y Pants,
DNA,
kango's stein massive,
Soul II Soul,
Gang Green,
The Wake,
The Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Altered Images,
Das Ding,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Coltrane,
The Birthday Party,
Rakim,
Mandrill,
Morten Harket,
Magma,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hot Snakes,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.