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 Sweden and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Blues Magoos to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Soulsonic Force,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Fraelich,
The Busters,
Dark Day,
Popol Vuh,
The Fall,
Gerry Rafferty,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lalo Schifrin,
Whodini,
The Blackbyrds,
Ronan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Boogie Down Productions,
Derrick Morgan,
Barrington Levy,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris & Cosey,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Susan Cadogan,
Absolute Body Control,
10cc,
Radiopuhelimet,
This Heat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eurythmics,
The Real Kids,
Tomorrow,
Eli Mardock,
Grey Daturas,
Kayak,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deepchord,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Black Dice,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Last Poets,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soul II Soul,
Grauzone,
Neu!,
Livin' Joy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gabor Szabo,
Amon Düül II,
Kerri Chandler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
H. Thieme,
Yusef Lateef,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Techniques,
Suburban Knight,
KRS-One,
Mandrill,
Archie Shepp,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.