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 Sri Lanka and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Fear,
the Normal,
Mandrill,
Los Fastidios,
The Last Poets,
Con Funk Shun,
Parry Music,
Howard Jones,
Babytalk,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pet Shop Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hasil Adkins,
Al Stewart,
Pantytec,
John Coltrane,
Mission of Burma,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cramps,
Chris Corsano,
LL Cool J,
The Velvet Underground,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Animal Collective,
EPMD,
Boredoms,
The Residents,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Iggy Pop,
Mad Mike,
Sound Behaviour,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mr. Review,
The Smoke,
K-Klass,
Byron Stingily,
Althea and Donna,
Bauhaus,
Marc Almond,
Talk Talk,
Spandau Ballet,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oblivians,
The Electric Prunes,
The Misunderstood,
Kenny Larkin,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxette,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joyce Sims,
Fluxion,
Ultra Naté,
X-101,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.