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 Finland and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 The New Christs to the jazz 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aaron Thompson,
Soft Cell,
Sun City Girls,
Shoche,
Pantaleimon,
Sparks,
Fatback Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ossler,
June Days,
David Bowie,
Black Moon,
T. Rex,
World's Most,
Bluetip,
Qualms,
Kayak,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sun Ra,
Gang Green,
LL Cool J,
Can,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Toni Rubio,
Khruangbin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
EPMD,
The Divine Comedy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Average White Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Section 25,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bob Dylan,
Underground Resistance,
Mission of Burma,
Index,
Warren Ellis,
A Certain Ratio,
Crime,
Pussy Galore,
Camberwell Now,
The Tremeloes,
Black Pus,
Wasted Youth,
Masters at Work,
New Age Steppers,
Cameo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Adolescents,
The Busters,
Robert Wyatt,
The Angels of Light,
Eric Dolphy,
Hasil Adkins,
Ponytail,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.