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 Bhutan and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ossler to the jazz 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ohio Players,
Youth Brigade,
Aaron Thompson,
The Searchers,
The Mummies,
Hasil Adkins,
Arcadia,
The Golliwogs,
Technova,
Slick Rick,
Harry Pussy,
Maurizio,
Susan Cadogan,
Easy Going,
Soft Cell,
Arthur Verocai,
DJ Style,
Barrington Levy,
Lower 48,
Kurtis Blow,
Fluxion,
Matthew Bourne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Starr,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fad Gadget,
the Bar-Kays,
Drexciya,
Intrusion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crooked Eye,
Popol Vuh,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Juan Atkins,
Franke,
Dead Boys,
Byron Stingily,
Masters at Work,
Grauzone,
The Modern Lovers,
Jacques Brel,
The Invisible,
Funkadelic,
Metal Thangz,
The Misunderstood,
Ultravox,
Crash Course in Science,
Donny Hathaway,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pagans,
Iggy Pop,
Eddi Front,
Simply Red,
Moebius,
The Busters,
Michelle Simonal,
Bronski Beat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.