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 Moldova and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
The Mojo Men,
The Divine Comedy,
Gabor Szabo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Drexciya,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crime,
Scott Walker,
World's Most,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Motorama,
Supertramp,
Michelle Simonal,
Cluster,
Morten Harket,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ornette Coleman,
Mad Mike,
Inner City,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The New Christs,
New York Dolls,
John Holt,
Brass Construction,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Henry Cow,
Blake Baxter,
Deadbeat,
Josef K,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jacques Brel,
The Motions,
Kevin Saunderson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Heaven 17,
Q65,
Clear Light,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
E-Dancer,
The Techniques,
Pagans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Idris Muhammad,
Bill Near,
Moby Grape,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Hill,
The Saints,
Eddi Front,
the Swans,
Organ,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.