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 Saudi Arabia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Knickerbockers 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Ken Boothe,
Vainqueur,
Carl Craig,
Eden Ahbez,
Cheater Slicks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
X-Ray Spex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Godley & Creme,
The Modern Lovers,
Bill Wells,
Sparks,
Ituana,
The Neon Judgement,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hoover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Patti Smith,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Accadde A,
Eric Copeland,
K-Klass,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Young Marble Giants,
Spandau Ballet,
Massinfluence,
Wings,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Japan,
The Stooges,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dawn Penn,
The Cramps,
Oblivians,
The Busters,
The Kinks,
Rapeman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Popol Vuh,
Quando Quango,
Television Personalities,
Peter & Gordon,
Motorama,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Fad Gadget,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Lynne,
Bluetip,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Last Poets,
Junior Murvin,
The Evens,
the Swans,
The United States of America,
the Human League,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Essential Logic,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
Rites of Spring,
Negative Approach,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.