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 Bhutan and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Cybotron,
H. Thieme,
Severed Heads,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Selecter,
Gang Green,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skarface,
Funkadelic,
Boz Scaggs,
F. McDonald,
June of 44,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Darondo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soul II Soul,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
In Retrospect,
Tim Buckley,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Beau Brummels,
Neil Young,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Misunderstood,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Yusef Lateef,
The Busters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Theoretical Girls,
Bob Dylan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Curtis Mayfield,
Siglo XX,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hardrive,
Loose Ends,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Flash Fearless,
Sun City Girls,
DJ Sneak,
Scott Walker,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camberwell Now,
Gang of Four,
The Pop Group,
Mo-Dettes,
D'Angelo,
Brass Construction,
The Golliwogs,
The Smoke,
The Names,
Peter and Kerry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Drexciya,
The American Breed,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.