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 Burkina and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fela Kuti 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Sister Nancy,
Minor Threat,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pylon,
Joyce Sims,
Stetsasonic,
The Music Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Desert Stars,
Yaz,
K-Klass,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Monochrome Set,
David McCallum,
Barbara Tucker,
Johnny Clarke,
Skriet,
Stiv Bators,
The Golliwogs,
Robert Hood,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Reagan Youth,
Siglo XX,
The Dead C,
Fad Gadget,
Basic Channel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aaron Thompson,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Joe & The Fish,
EPMD,
The Victims,
Bobby Sherman,
Hot Snakes,
The Misunderstood,
Faust,
The Barracudas,
Trumans Water,
These Immortal Souls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tom Boy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Birthday Party,
Television,
Bluetip,
Rekid,
Throbbing Gristle,
Patti Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Mojo Men,
The Blackbyrds,
Neu!,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Slits,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.