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 Slovakia and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
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 theremin 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 Loose Ends to the techno 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
A Certain Ratio,
Amazonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Invisible,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rekid,
The Pop Group,
Nils Olav,
Talk Talk,
The Residents,
James White and The Blacks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Con Funk Shun,
Bush Tetras,
Junior Murvin,
Bang On A Can,
Moss Icon,
Rod Modell,
Ponytail,
Marvin Gaye,
Rosa Yemen,
Pagans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Duran Duran,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jacob Miller,
Maleditus Sound,
Boz Scaggs,
Davy DMX,
ABC,
T. Rex,
Tomorrow,
The Moleskins,
Heaven 17,
Simply Red,
E-Dancer,
The Monks,
Fad Gadget,
Sugar Minott,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
Das Ding,
Altered Images,
Man Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Organ,
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joy Division,
Japan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Trojans,
The Barracudas,
Cecil Taylor,
Television,
Can,
Lakeside,
Deakin,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.