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 Tanzania and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
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 arpeggiator 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 Black Pus to the jazz 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Henry Cow,
Pole,
The Misunderstood,
Television,
Prince Buster,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Agent Orange,
In Retrospect,
David Bowie,
Slick Rick,
Barry Ungar,
The Red Krayola,
Blossom Toes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Angels of Light,
Monks,
Joey Negro,
The Busters,
Japan,
The Walker Brothers,
the Germs,
H. Thieme,
The Black Dice,
The Fugs,
Aural Exciters,
Von Mondo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
Cecil Taylor,
Sixth Finger,
The Five Americans,
Organ,
Rekid,
the Bar-Kays,
E-Dancer,
Marcia Griffiths,
Drexciya,
Can,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Knickerbockers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spandau Ballet,
Andrew Hill,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
June Days,
Arab on Radar,
CMW,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Accadde A,
Newcleus,
DJ Style,
Fear,
Eurythmics,
Zapp,
Los Fastidios,
Massinfluence,
Dennis Brown,
The Blues Magoos,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.