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 Nauru and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Michael McDonald 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 Electric Prunes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
The Searchers,
Joyce Sims,
Bang On A Can,
New York Dolls,
Sister Nancy,
Rakim,
Cymande,
Cluster,
Fluxion,
Con Funk Shun,
Blancmange,
Hot Snakes,
Basic Channel,
The Sonics,
Alphaville,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Main Source,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fortunes,
Quadrant,
Wire,
The Young Rascals,
Fela Kuti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thompson Twins,
Flipper,
Ice-T,
the Sonics,
The Grass Roots,
Can,
Junior Murvin,
Pylon,
The Happenings,
Joey Negro,
Alice Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stetsasonic,
Average White Band,
The Music Machine,
Spoonie Gee,
Mantronix,
Barry Ungar,
The Electric Prunes,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Todd Terry,
cv313,
the Soft Cell,
Roxy Music,
Robert Wyatt,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fugs,
Freddie Wadling,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cramps,
Ken Boothe,
Arcadia,
June of 44,
H. Thieme,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lalann,
E-Dancer,
The Kinks,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.