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 St Lucia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Mummies to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
The Alarm Clocks,
Graham Central Station,
Lebanon Hanover,
One Last Wish,
Idris Muhammad,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wings,
Robert Görl,
Jeff Mills,
Reuben Wilson,
Donald Byrd,
The Sonics,
Fatback Band,
Warsaw,
Porter Ricks,
Robert Hood,
Liliput,
Accadde A,
The Selecter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T.S.O.L.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Moleskins,
Heaven 17,
The Gladiators,
Talk Talk,
Country Teasers,
Quantec,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Modern Lovers,
Pere Ubu,
Vainqueur,
Siglo XX,
Alice Coltrane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Man Eating Sloth,
H. Thieme,
The Techniques,
Sound Behaviour,
World's Most,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jacques Brel,
Nik Kershaw,
Gang Starr,
Andrew Hill,
Erasure,
The Flesh Eaters,
Babytalk,
Groovy Waters,
The Mojo Men,
Hashim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stockholm Monsters,
Index,
Fluxion,
Derrick May,
The Kinks,
Ludus,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.