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 Afghanistan and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 David Bowie 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 John Holt to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
T.S.O.L.,
Suicide,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roy Ayers,
Grauzone,
Minny Pops,
Fat Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dual Sessions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arab on Radar,
Tears for Fears,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rufus Thomas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minnie Riperton,
Pussy Galore,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tom Boy,
Theoretical Girls,
DJ Sneak,
The Fall,
Bad Manners,
The Gladiators,
Michelle Simonal,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Flash Fearless,
B.T. Express,
UT,
Soul II Soul,
The Buckinghams,
The Golliwogs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Radio Birdman,
Bob Dylan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Con Funk Shun,
Moby Grape,
Livin' Joy,
Colin Newman,
Ludus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stetsasonic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Niagra,
Duran Duran,
Sandy B,
Popol Vuh,
Man Parrish,
Charles Mingus,
Pulsallama,
Erasure,
Donald Byrd,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Velvet Underground,
Cal Tjader,
Schoolly D,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.