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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Bauhaus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rekid,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Qualms,
Fugazi,
Henry Cow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultravox,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Fraelich,
The Evens,
June of 44,
Barbara Tucker,
Simply Red,
Spandau Ballet,
John Foxx,
Sixth Finger,
The Blues Magoos,
Arab on Radar,
Erasure,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Seeds,
DNA,
cv313,
Zapp,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rapeman,
The Fortunes,
Lakeside,
The Names,
The Vogues,
B.T. Express,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Golliwogs,
Outsiders,
DJ Style,
Ultra Naté,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Massinfluence,
Matthew Bourne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minutemen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
Shuggie Otis,
Make Up,
H. Thieme,
Suburban Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wasted Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
Pylon,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.