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 Latvia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba 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 Warren Ellis to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Dead C,
Mandrill,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arthur Verocai,
The Residents,
Stockholm Monsters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ossler,
The Blackbyrds,
Parry Music,
Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
Wally Richardson,
Banda Bassotti,
Roy Ayers,
Visage,
Vladislav Delay,
The Doobie Brothers,
Radiohead,
Blossom Toes,
PIL,
Aural Exciters,
Eddi Front,
48th St. Collective,
Camberwell Now,
Bang On A Can,
Simply Red,
Andrew Hill,
Nirvana,
Procol Harum,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Association,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marmalade,
Anakelly,
Mr. Review,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ohio Players,
The Fugs,
Slick Rick,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Cure,
Reagan Youth,
Mo-Dettes,
UT,
Outsiders,
Susan Cadogan,
Steve Hackett,
The Gap Band,
Audionom,
MDC,
Electric Prunes,
Cameo,
Intrusion,
Fela Kuti,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.