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 Syria and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gap Band to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rapeman,
DNA,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nils Olav,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soft Cell,
X-102,
Davy DMX,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quadrant,
Stereo Dub,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yusef Lateef,
L. Decosne,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monochrome Set,
MDC,
Piero Umiliani,
Sun City Girls,
Scan 7,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tubeway Army,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tom Boy,
Zapp,
Rufus Thomas,
U.S. Maple,
Amon Düül,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Avey Tare,
Dave Gahan,
Josef K,
Aural Exciters,
Los Fastidios,
Cheater Slicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liliput,
Half Japanese,
Idris Muhammad,
Scion,
Brick,
Outsiders,
Nirvana,
Brothers Johnson,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ludus,
The Saints,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
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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.