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 Fiji and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Accadde A,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crime,
The Music Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Liliput,
K-Klass,
Alphaville,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Names,
The Sound,
L. Decosne,
Public Enemy,
Glenn Branca,
The Mojo Men,
Absolute Body Control,
Von Mondo,
Soulsonic Force,
Moby Grape,
Kaleidoscope,
Lyres,
Infiniti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Newcleus,
F. McDonald,
Ponytail,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Althea and Donna,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Zapp,
Panda Bear,
The Real Kids,
The Slackers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ken Boothe,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Pop Group,
Faraquet,
Blancmange,
Porter Ricks,
Ultra Naté,
The Happenings,
Rufus Thomas,
Visage,
Babytalk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mo-Dettes,
Gong,
Cybotron,
Warsaw,
Mission of Burma,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yazoo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nik Kershaw,
Marmalade,
Mantronix,
Chrome,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yaz,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.