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 Oman and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Monks to the grime 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Moby Grape,
New York Dolls,
Sister Nancy,
Scratch Acid,
Liliput,
cv313,
Depeche Mode,
Royal Trux,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Angels of Light,
Ronnie Foster,
Pagans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rapeman,
Joe Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eric Dolphy,
Peter & Gordon,
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Offenders,
Roy Ayers,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Human League,
Animal Collective,
Wire,
The Birthday Party,
Eddi Front,
The Smoke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Cale,
Scion,
The Blues Magoos,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Velvet Underground,
Franke,
Alphaville,
Rhythm & Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Saccharine Trust,
Hardrive,
Lucky Dragons,
Main Source,
Steve Hackett,
Al Stewart,
Scott Walker,
The Zeros,
Leonard Cohen,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Q and Not U,
Visage,
Donny Hathaway,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.