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 Argentina and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
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 oboe 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 The Buckinghams to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Porter Ricks,
Byron Stingily,
Monks,
Visage,
The Red Krayola,
Fluxion,
Reuben Wilson,
Prince Buster,
Freddie Wadling,
Ituana,
A Certain Ratio,
U.S. Maple,
Warsaw,
X-Ray Spex,
Organ,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marine Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Supertramp,
Chris & Cosey,
Brothers Johnson,
Faust,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Echospace,
Kaleidoscope,
Cheater Slicks,
Steve Hackett,
Terry Callier,
Skaos,
Mo-Dettes,
Funky Four + One,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camouflage,
Ossler,
Thompson Twins,
Banda Bassotti,
Ralphi Rosario,
Inner City,
Oblivians,
Soft Machine,
The Toasters,
World's Most,
Howard Jones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Siglo XX,
Sällskapet,
48th St. Collective,
Tim Buckley,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Womack,
Nico,
Main Source,
Ten City,
Sixth Finger,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Monolake,
Josef K,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marshall Jefferson,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.