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 Israel and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lakeside to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Max Romeo,
Funky Four + One,
Jeff Lynne,
Gong,
Malaria!,
The Misunderstood,
Lakeside,
The Star Department,
The Golliwogs,
Fluxion,
The Smoke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Panda Bear,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Bar-Kays,
Freddie Wadling,
Can,
Aural Exciters,
Wasted Youth,
Gabor Szabo,
The Buckinghams,
Don Cherry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Piero Umiliani,
The Standells,
Donny Hathaway,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim,
Eden Ahbez,
Main Source,
Absolute Body Control,
Brick,
Soulsonic Force,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Association,
Section 25,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxy Music,
KRS-One,
Mo-Dettes,
Echospace,
Rhythm & Sound,
Interpol,
Loose Ends,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Drexciya,
Cal Tjader,
The Birthday Party,
Ultravox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nico,
The Walker Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
James White and The Blacks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suburban Knight,
Masters at Work,
Man Parrish,
Althea and Donna,
Pere Ubu,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.