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 Eritrea and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the rock 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
The Divine Comedy,
Arthur Verocai,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Monks,
Heaven 17,
John Lydon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Procol Harum,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Busters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
China Crisis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delta 5,
Lyres,
The Pop Group,
Albert Ayler,
Sun Ra,
Henry Cow,
Malaria!,
Lucky Dragons,
Newcleus,
The Beau Brummels,
Siglo XX,
Severed Heads,
Pharoah Sanders,
Susan Cadogan,
Boogie Down Productions,
David Axelrod,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Talk Talk,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erykah Badu,
L. Decosne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Monochrome Set,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang of Four,
Jerry's Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ice-T,
Arab on Radar,
Mary Jane Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
Ludus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun City Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
10cc,
The Smoke,
Funkadelic,
Leonard Cohen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.