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 Taiwan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
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 harpsichord 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 X-102 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Metal Thangz,
PIL,
OOIOO,
Blancmange,
Matthew Bourne,
Japan,
the Association,
The Neon Judgement,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Derrick May,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brick,
Rosa Yemen,
Camouflage,
Moebius,
The Dirtbombs,
Can,
Lungfish,
The Last Poets,
Pussy Galore,
a-ha,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Joey Negro,
June of 44,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Golliwogs,
Scan 7,
Connie Case,
Godley & Creme,
Quadrant,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Christie,
Cecil Taylor,
10cc,
Deakin,
Alison Limerick,
Von Mondo,
Zero Boys,
ABC,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Howard Jones,
The Kinks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Moody Blues,
Spoonie Gee,
The Selecter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scientists,
The Searchers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Simply Red,
The Dead C,
Black Moon,
Ten City,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fad Gadget,
Marine Girls,
Joy Division,
Das Ding,
Junior Murvin,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.