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 Monaco and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Donald Fagen 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 Yazoo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
David Bowie,
Deadbeat,
Interpol,
Aswad,
Soul II Soul,
Scott Walker,
Popol Vuh,
Steve Hackett,
Whodini,
John Holt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Star Department,
DJ Style,
The Techniques,
Nils Olav,
X-101,
Iggy Pop,
Crooked Eye,
Skaos,
Supertramp,
Shuggie Otis,
Buzzcocks,
Glenn Branca,
Shoche,
Robert Wyatt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Echospace,
Cybotron,
Wally Richardson,
Kerri Chandler,
New Age Steppers,
Chris & Cosey,
Maurizio,
Black Sheep,
Donny Hathaway,
Lindisfarne,
Lalann,
Brick,
FM Einheit,
Swans,
Donald Byrd,
Dennis Brown,
Jeff Lynne,
Pantytec,
Masters at Work,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed,
Hasil Adkins,
Hoover,
Barbara Tucker,
These Immortal Souls,
Altered Images,
Blossom Toes,
Monks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fall,
Simply Red,
Livin' Joy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.