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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Public Enemy,
D'Angelo,
Sound Behaviour,
MC5,
Marshall Jefferson,
T.S.O.L.,
Circle Jerks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Porter Ricks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Birthday Party,
The Gories,
Joensuu 1685,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Sheep,
Pylon,
Dark Day,
The Victims,
Hardrive,
The Saints,
Drexciya,
The Mummies,
Symarip,
Black Bananas,
Kurtis Blow,
Depeche Mode,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Duran Duran,
Roy Ayers,
The Raincoats,
Byron Stingily,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cramps,
Anthony Braxton,
Joy Division,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scientists,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Faraquet,
Camouflage,
Zero Boys,
Pantaleimon,
Grauzone,
Arcadia,
Deepchord,
The Misunderstood,
Wings,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radio Birdman,
Chris & Cosey,
Hoover,
cv313,
Marmalade,
Matthew Halsall,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Lydon,
Fluxion,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.