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 El Salvador and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 One Last Wish to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Royal Trux,
Deakin,
The Young Rascals,
Graham Central Station,
Darondo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rapeman,
New York Dolls,
Sixth Finger,
Skaos,
Funky Four + One,
Gang of Four,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tim Buckley,
Slave,
Sex Pistols,
Nils Olav,
The Saints,
John Foxx,
Joy Division,
Dorothy Ashby,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mo-Dettes,
Sound Behaviour,
Andrew Hill,
Scrapy,
Kas Product,
Silicon Teens,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nas,
Erasure,
Harmonia,
Japan,
Shoche,
Gong,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Searchers,
Stiv Bators,
Archie Shepp,
Negative Approach,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Inner City,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bill Wells,
Scratch Acid,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Womack,
Icehouse,
Henry Cow,
The Fugs,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Slits,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Make Up,
Ronnie Foster,
Reagan Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bootsy Collins,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.