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 Saudi Arabia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator 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 Duran Duran to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Camouflage,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tim Buckley,
Sonny Sharrock,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Malaria!,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Moon,
Magma,
Connie Case,
cv313,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Slackers,
Khruangbin,
Funky Four + One,
Patti Smith,
Duran Duran,
Colin Newman,
Gregory Isaacs,
Neu!,
Matthew Bourne,
Suicide,
Amazonics,
DJ Style,
The Buckinghams,
Angry Samoans,
Tres Demented,
Con Funk Shun,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Rundgren,
Janne Schatter,
Sandy B,
Popol Vuh,
Basic Channel,
Scratch Acid,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang of Four,
Morten Harket,
The Moleskins,
Monks,
New Age Steppers,
Hashim,
Amon Düül II,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gichy Dan,
Erasure,
Essential Logic,
The Angels of Light,
The Gories,
Barry Ungar,
The Pretty Things,
Derrick May,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Donald Byrd,
The J.B.'s,
Marine Girls,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.