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 Fiji and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 David Bowie 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 Skriet to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Marc Almond,
Funky Four + One,
Parry Music,
Darondo,
Unrelated Segments,
Moss Icon,
Laurel Aitken,
Archie Shepp,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crooked Eye,
Livin' Joy,
Jacob Miller,
Make Up,
Danielle Patucci,
Kurtis Blow,
10cc,
The Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
Aaron Thompson,
Tom Boy,
Faust,
Con Funk Shun,
Tommy Roe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mantronix,
Magazine,
LL Cool J,
Tubeway Army,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Basic Channel,
Lungfish,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Chrome,
The Busters,
The Fugs,
Magma,
The Monks,
Grauzone,
Scott Walker,
Quadrant,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
the Slits,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Index,
The Grass Roots,
The Mummies,
James White and The Blacks,
One Last Wish,
X-102,
Andrew Hill,
Blancmange,
T. Rex,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fear,
Schoolly D,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.