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 Kuwait and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marmalade to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Arab on Radar,
Bill Wells,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radio Birdman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Byron Stingily,
Symarip,
Subhumans,
The Evens,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
Malaria!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Loose Ends,
Tres Demented,
Lakeside,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fad Gadget,
Al Stewart,
The Monochrome Set,
Nils Olav,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hashim,
Zero Boys,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultravox,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed,
Skriet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Quando Quango,
Stiv Bators,
Maurizio,
Clear Light,
Warsaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
JFA,
Von Mondo,
Reuben Wilson,
Angry Samoans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Erasure,
The Move,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Monks,
The Happenings,
The Searchers,
Tomorrow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Names,
LL Cool J,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Lydon,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.