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 Luxembourg and from Bremen.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
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 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 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 Average White Band to the grunge 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Certain Ratio,
Lungfish,
The Invisible,
Echospace,
Supertramp,
Sound Behaviour,
Harmonia,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
U.S. Maple,
Agent Orange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Second Layer,
Young Marble Giants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marmalade,
Peter & Gordon,
Joyce Sims,
Crash Course in Science,
Moby Grape,
the Association,
The Pretty Things,
Angry Samoans,
The Names,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-101,
Thompson Twins,
Funkadelic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
This Heat,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moebius,
The Tremeloes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Human League,
Half Japanese,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Parrish,
Skarface,
The Skatalites,
Lou Christie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Essential Logic,
Anthony Braxton,
Joe Finger,
Banda Bassotti,
DJ Sneak,
Quantec,
Black Flag,
Jerry's Kids,
Tom Boy,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Goldenarms,
Mark Hollis,
Aural Exciters,
Black Bananas,
Dave Gahan,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.