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 New Zealand and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar 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 A Certain Ratio to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Surgeon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crooked Eye,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dark Day,
Minny Pops,
Derrick May,
DJ Sneak,
Man Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
CMW,
Jacques Brel,
Lalo Schifrin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Starr,
Cymande,
Albert Ayler,
Joe Finger,
Skarface,
Bauhaus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wally Richardson,
La Düsseldorf,
Angry Samoans,
Eric Dolphy,
Quantec,
the Sonics,
Mo-Dettes,
Faust,
Pussy Galore,
Graham Central Station,
Bush Tetras,
The Standells,
Anthony Braxton,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blossom Toes,
Rites of Spring,
Dennis Brown,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ken Boothe,
Brothers Johnson,
Easy Going,
Connie Case,
Ponytail,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Piero Umiliani,
Jeff Lynne,
The Associates,
Lucky Dragons,
Pantaleimon,
Con Funk Shun,
These Immortal Souls,
Althea and Donna,
The Beau Brummels,
Gong,
Rotary Connection,
Jandek,
Young Marble Giants,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.