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 El Salvador and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes 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 Bob Dylan to the rock 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Cybotron,
The Doors,
Amazonics,
H. Thieme,
Q and Not U,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Starr,
Index,
Saccharine Trust,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sound Behaviour,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Basic Channel,
Boredoms,
The Index,
Ohio Players,
Pylon,
Con Funk Shun,
Todd Terry,
Black Sheep,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sound,
Funkadelic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crime,
Susan Cadogan,
Sex Pistols,
Pagans,
ABBA,
Colin Newman,
Television,
Bobby Womack,
Peter and Kerry,
Accadde A,
The Doobie Brothers,
The J.B.'s,
Yaz,
Brass Construction,
The Flesh Eaters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sandy B,
One Last Wish,
Jeff Mills,
Simply Red,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hardrive,
Hasil Adkins,
Monks,
The Offenders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anakelly,
Surgeon,
Banda Bassotti,
John Coltrane,
Derrick May,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sugar Minott,
Ice-T,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.