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 Czech Republic and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kurtis Blow to the crunk 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crime,
kango's stein massive,
Silicon Teens,
The Divine Comedy,
Minny Pops,
Derrick May,
Rufus Thomas,
Rites of Spring,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Alton Ellis,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dirtbombs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nirvana,
Harry Pussy,
Hardrive,
Maleditus Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Five Americans,
Nick Fraelich,
Graham Central Station,
Popol Vuh,
Michelle Simonal,
Steve Hackett,
Japan,
Drexciya,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Slits,
The Moody Blues,
Roy Ayers,
The Trojans,
Animal Collective,
Sandy B,
Malaria!,
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
Barclay James Harvest,
X-101,
The Associates,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Inner City,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quando Quango,
Flipper,
Fatback Band,
Lakeside,
Bad Manners,
Minutemen,
Albert Ayler,
The Black Dice,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Reed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scan 7,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.