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 Solomon Islands and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Darondo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Rekid,
The Divine Comedy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Babytalk,
Can,
E-Dancer,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Banda Bassotti,
The Real Kids,
Nick Fraelich,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Moon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Motions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sight & Sound,
Lower 48,
Erykah Badu,
The Leaves,
Althea and Donna,
Television,
Monks,
This Heat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Terry Callier,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ken Boothe,
Laurel Aitken,
Groovy Waters,
Underground Resistance,
New Age Steppers,
Johnny Clarke,
Popol Vuh,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minny Pops,
Black Bananas,
The Fuzztones,
Sex Pistols,
Charles Mingus,
Suicide,
Half Japanese,
The Victims,
Glambeats Corp.,
Q65,
Carl Craig,
Sällskapet,
Soft Machine,
Das Ding,
Joe Finger,
The Neon Judgement,
Moebius,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The American Breed,
U.S. Maple,
Negative Approach,
Gang Starr,
Graham Central Station,
Shoche,
Magazine,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.