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 Equatorial Guinea and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Skatalites to the rock 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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
The Selecter,
Slick Rick,
Dark Day,
X-101,
LL Cool J,
kango's stein massive,
Warsaw,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Banda Bassotti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Procol Harum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Seeds,
Soul II Soul,
Archie Shepp,
Barrington Levy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Excepter,
DJ Style,
Sam Rivers,
Mark Hollis,
Yellowson,
Funkadelic,
New Order,
Gil Scott Heron,
Trumans Water,
T. Rex,
Marine Girls,
Byron Stingily,
Simply Red,
Bill Near,
Wasted Youth,
Hashim,
Das Ding,
Kas Product,
Can,
Chris & Cosey,
Mandrill,
Rotary Connection,
Steve Hackett,
Desert Stars,
Carl Craig,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bob Dylan,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Black Sheep,
Judy Mowatt,
Spoonie Gee,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blackbyrds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soulsonic Force,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Little Man,
Oneida,
Scrapy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.