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 Sudan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Holger Czukay 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 Andrew Hill to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Star Department,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DNA,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Evens,
Dennis Brown,
Nik Kershaw,
New Age Steppers,
Qualms,
Swans,
Faraquet,
Tim Buckley,
Pulsallama,
Heaven 17,
The American Breed,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Urselle,
Deepchord,
Essential Logic,
Jeff Lynne,
Reagan Youth,
Y Pants,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Monks,
a-ha,
Mary Jane Girls,
The United States of America,
Depeche Mode,
Scion,
The Selecter,
The Smoke,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Green,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Technova,
Bootsy Collins,
Second Layer,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ponytail,
Pierre Henry,
The Modern Lovers,
Metal Thangz,
Steve Hackett,
The Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joyce Sims,
Darondo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Con Funk Shun,
Blancmange,
Theoretical Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang of Four,
The Human League,
Nas,
The Music Machine,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.