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 Mauritania and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Donald Fagen 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 Faust to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
48th St. Collective,
Ornette Coleman,
Minny Pops,
Derrick Morgan,
Dark Day,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dead Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Simply Red,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scan 7,
Alton Ellis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gun Club,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tubeway Army,
Letta Mbulu,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skriet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magma,
Chrome,
the Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deadbeat,
L. Decosne,
MC5,
The Angels of Light,
Fort Wilson Riot,
One Last Wish,
Mr. Review,
Funky Four + One,
Gang Starr,
Echospace,
The Modern Lovers,
Brick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moebius,
Matthew Bourne,
John Coltrane,
Niagra,
Marine Girls,
Robert Wyatt,
Pere Ubu,
Joyce Sims,
X-102,
The Music Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
Suicide,
Shuggie Otis,
Accadde A,
Eden Ahbez,
Suburban Knight,
Soft Cell,
Motorama,
Pagans,
Matthew Halsall,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.