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 Angola and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Khruangbin to the dance 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Sneak,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Electric Prunes,
Funky Four + One,
Camouflage,
The Standells,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kaleidoscope,
Subhumans,
The Wake,
Sam Rivers,
Moby Grape,
Stiv Bators,
Hoover,
Index,
Gregory Isaacs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tomorrow,
The Victims,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Trojans,
Peter & Gordon,
The Human League,
Talk Talk,
Crime,
Roger Hodgson,
Lyres,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Underground Resistance,
Kerrie Biddell,
Carl Craig,
Wally Richardson,
Davy DMX,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Organ,
Sound Behaviour,
Pierre Henry,
Mark Hollis,
Intrusion,
Tropical Tobacco,
Circle Jerks,
Public Enemy,
the Swans,
Tubeway Army,
Blancmange,
Ronnie Foster,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lalann,
cv313,
Massinfluence,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joyce Sims,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.