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 Gambia and from Salvador.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Dennis Brown to the rap 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Roy Ayers,
K-Klass,
Little Man,
Clear Light,
Tom Boy,
Joy Division,
The Barracudas,
Steve Hackett,
The Durutti Column,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marc Almond,
The Litter,
the Slits,
Youth Brigade,
Joe Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
Funkadelic,
Con Funk Shun,
Aswad,
Hoover,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
Mission of Burma,
Deakin,
Dark Day,
The Cramps,
Sun City Girls,
Reagan Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Howard Jones,
Piero Umiliani,
Smog,
F. McDonald,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joe Finger,
Can,
Heaven 17,
Eve St. Jones,
Siglo XX,
Lakeside,
Animal Collective,
Soul II Soul,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jacques Brel,
Gabor Szabo,
Young Marble Giants,
Byron Stingily,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Newcleus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fat Boys,
the Human League,
Massinfluence,
Yusef Lateef,
Niagra,
Cybotron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.