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 Indonesia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Fania All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
ABC,
Toni Rubio,
Pierre Henry,
Don Cherry,
the Human League,
Blake Baxter,
Albert Ayler,
Rekid,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Selecter,
Ornette Coleman,
the Slits,
Little Man,
The Smoke,
Jerry's Kids,
Barry Ungar,
The Knickerbockers,
Mo-Dettes,
Subhumans,
The Slits,
Deadbeat,
The Durutti Column,
Cameo,
Suburban Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
Amazonics,
Talk Talk,
Sex Pistols,
Pantaleimon,
Brand Nubian,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Chrome,
Black Bananas,
Dennis Brown,
Joe Smooth,
The Smiths,
Wasted Youth,
New York Dolls,
The Victims,
Desert Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Monolake,
Sight & Sound,
Yellowson,
Royal Trux,
La Düsseldorf,
Parry Music,
Inner City,
Warren Ellis,
Eric Copeland,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minnie Riperton,
Symarip,
Soft Machine,
Echospace,
Jawbox,
Ossler,
The Gun Club,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bluetip,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.