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 Comoros and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Funkadelic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Rosa Yemen,
Arthur Verocai,
Avey Tare,
Malaria!,
Leonard Cohen,
X-101,
Mr. Review,
Neil Young,
Kurtis Blow,
Schoolly D,
Janne Schatter,
Accadde A,
Scott Walker,
Mission of Burma,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nico,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rekid,
Reagan Youth,
The Associates,
Black Flag,
Warren Ellis,
Nils Olav,
48th St. Collective,
The Moleskins,
Tres Demented,
Suicide,
Chrome,
Godley & Creme,
Scratch Acid,
DNA,
The Last Poets,
Echospace,
Barry Ungar,
R.M.O.,
The Trojans,
Maurizio,
Lungfish,
Cameo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Blackbyrds,
The Sound,
The Index,
The Misunderstood,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Hood,
Japan,
Funkadelic,
The Knickerbockers,
Hot Snakes,
Rod Modell,
The Martian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Urselle,
the Normal,
Oblivians,
the Soft Cell,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.