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 Belarus and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Junior Murvin to the crunk 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Trumans Water,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Happenings,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Busters,
Livin' Joy,
Swell Maps,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare,
Barbara Tucker,
Don Cherry,
Stiv Bators,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Searchers,
Ultra Naté,
The Fall,
Interpol,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Pus,
Bush Tetras,
Los Fastidios,
Bad Manners,
cv313,
Lou Christie,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sight & Sound,
Leonard Cohen,
Joe Smooth,
Loose Ends,
Tommy Roe,
Liliput,
Amazonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Mandrill,
Buzzcocks,
Alison Limerick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Green,
Dawn Penn,
EPMD,
Grey Daturas,
10cc,
The Cure,
Sex Pistols,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Offenders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Groovy Waters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Real Kids,
The Music Machine,
Carl Craig,
The Evens,
The Pretty Things,
Lee Hazlewood,
Grauzone,
Crooked Eye,
Black Sheep,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.