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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer 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 Sun City Girls to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Suicide,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Massinfluence,
Marvin Gaye,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Misunderstood,
Stereo Dub,
Aural Exciters,
Ronnie Foster,
CMW,
The Dirtbombs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scott Walker,
Laurel Aitken,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fortunes,
Vladislav Delay,
Joe Smooth,
Gichy Dan,
Urselle,
Kool Moe Dee,
Funkadelic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman,
Spandau Ballet,
Scratch Acid,
Jacques Brel,
Tim Buckley,
Lakeside,
Gang Green,
Black Bananas,
Bad Manners,
Roxy Music,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dark Day,
Fatback Band,
Carl Craig,
Dave Gahan,
The Slackers,
The Fall,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
China Crisis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Accadde A,
The Divine Comedy,
Rapeman,
Cybotron,
Eric B and Rakim,
David McCallum,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rakim,
Echospace,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barry Ungar,
Lee Hazlewood,
Steve Hackett,
Roxette,
Skarface,
Unwound,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.