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 Brazil and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 La Düsseldorf to the dance 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Sun City Girls,
Make Up,
Das Ding,
Half Japanese,
Idris Muhammad,
Swell Maps,
Ultra Naté,
Glambeats Corp.,
Aswad,
Ice-T,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alton Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Drexciya,
Ronnie Foster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eddi Front,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Byrd,
Neu!,
Juan Atkins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
Los Fastidios,
Scratch Acid,
T. Rex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
June Days,
DJ Style,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Anthony Braxton,
The Blues Magoos,
Organ,
Zapp,
The Cowsills,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
U.S. Maple,
Scion,
The Pop Group,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tears for Fears,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Velvet Underground,
L. Decosne,
The Sonics,
The Gun Club,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Womack,
AZ,
PIL,
Pylon,
Boredoms,
Charles Mingus,
The Neon Judgement,
Steve Hackett,
Hashim,
The Fuzztones,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.