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 Papua New Guinea and from Toronto.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Flash Fearless to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Eurythmics,
The Saints,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roxy Music,
The Five Americans,
Dennis Brown,
Goldenarms,
Lou Christie,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sixth Finger,
The Skatalites,
H. Thieme,
Joe Smooth,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Birthday Party,
Agitation Free,
Section 25,
The Moody Blues,
Cybotron,
Cecil Taylor,
Matthew Bourne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
In Retrospect,
Desert Stars,
The Techniques,
Vainqueur,
Bad Manners,
Sun Ra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Intrusion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rod Modell,
Max Romeo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
OOIOO,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Womack,
The Raincoats,
Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
Alphaville,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Black Dice,
Moebius,
Massinfluence,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pierre Henry,
MDC,
The Gun Club,
Mo-Dettes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Severed Heads,
Jeff Mills,
D'Angelo,
Erasure,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Yazoo,
The American Breed,
Parry Music,
The Star Department,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.