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 India 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bobby Byrd to the techno 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Aloha Tigers,
In Retrospect,
Sound Behaviour,
The Selecter,
Andrew Hill,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Five Americans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Theoretical Girls,
Whodini,
Dark Day,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
June Days,
The Litter,
Tears for Fears,
The Invisible,
Half Japanese,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Coltrane,
John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Knickerbockers,
Scan 7,
Yusef Lateef,
The Blues Magoos,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks,
Tommy Roe,
Joe Smooth,
Tres Demented,
Massinfluence,
Sarah Menescal,
The Toasters,
New Age Steppers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Sheep,
the Association,
Los Fastidios,
Morten Harket,
Cluster,
Neu!,
Gabor Szabo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Normal,
Deakin,
Archie Shepp,
Franke,
ABBA,
Blake Baxter,
Porter Ricks,
The Sonics,
Metal Thangz,
Jimmy McGriff,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minny Pops,
Kerri Chandler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.