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 Peru and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 The American Breed to the crunk 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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Groovy Waters,
The Motions,
UT,
Sixth Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Erykah Badu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Stooges,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deakin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The New Christs,
Tommy Roe,
Eve St. Jones,
Pagans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mantronix,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joe Finger,
Cluster,
The Mummies,
Michelle Simonal,
Electric Prunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Depeche Mode,
Anthony Braxton,
The Smoke,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crime,
U.S. Maple,
D'Angelo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mad Mike,
8 Eyed Spy,
Siglo XX,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun City Girls,
Malaria!,
Unwound,
Charles Mingus,
In Retrospect,
Brothers Johnson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Carl Craig,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scientists,
Fela Kuti,
Scan 7,
Gang Starr,
Sonic Youth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Neil Young,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.