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 Lesotho and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 Inner City 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a linndrum 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
OOIOO,
The Five Americans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fela Kuti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brass Construction,
Marvin Gaye,
Matthew Halsall,
Yellowson,
Mark Hollis,
The Cure,
Tubeway Army,
JFA,
Byron Stingily,
Loose Ends,
Bush Tetras,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
B.T. Express,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Flag,
Magazine,
Wally Richardson,
Spandau Ballet,
Nirvana,
The Seeds,
Circle Jerks,
Wasted Youth,
The Mummies,
Stiv Bators,
Negative Approach,
MDC,
Pantaleimon,
Lucky Dragons,
The Music Machine,
Curtis Mayfield,
Heaven 17,
Prince Buster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Agitation Free,
Ornette Coleman,
Carl Craig,
KRS-One,
Jeff Mills,
Saccharine Trust,
Suicide,
Moby Grape,
Cheater Slicks,
Monks,
Television Personalities,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gichy Dan,
Bob Dylan,
Moss Icon,
The Dead C,
Eddi Front,
DJ Style,
Radio Birdman,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roxy Music,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.