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 Fiji and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lou Reed to the rap 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Talk Talk,
Y Pants,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sex Pistols,
The Divine Comedy,
Infiniti,
Steve Hackett,
The Gories,
the Slits,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
John Coltrane,
Au Pairs,
Rakim,
Deadbeat,
Inner City,
Bad Manners,
The Gun Club,
Ornette Coleman,
Bootsy Collins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quantec,
Tropical Tobacco,
L. Decosne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Television,
Robert Hood,
Bluetip,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Minny Pops,
Mark Hollis,
Nico,
The Gap Band,
The Offenders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
Von Mondo,
Intrusion,
Ronan,
John Lydon,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed,
X-101,
David McCallum,
DNA,
The Angels of Light,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amon Düül II,
Lalann,
The Electric Prunes,
The J.B.'s,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terrestrial Tones,
MC5,
Grauzone,
Junior Murvin,
Eli Mardock,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joy Division,
Soft Machine,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.