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 Nicaragua and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Gang Gang Dance to the rap 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Evens,
Aaron Thompson,
kango's stein massive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Harry Pussy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Outsiders,
The Durutti Column,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
Bill Near,
Young Marble Giants,
Faust,
Joey Negro,
Franke,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joe Smooth,
Urselle,
Dave Gahan,
Little Man,
The Birthday Party,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Leaves,
Dennis Brown,
The Happenings,
Supertramp,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
New Age Steppers,
Zapp,
Frankie Knuckles,
OOIOO,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris & Cosey,
Shoche,
Amon Düül II,
Camouflage,
Crispian St. Peters,
Spoonie Gee,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Throbbing Gristle,
Howard Jones,
The Doors,
The Fugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mantronix,
F. McDonald,
Fatback Band,
Prince Buster,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Velvet Underground,
Crime,
Mission of Burma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Grass Roots,
Neil Young,
Robert Hood,
Cameo,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.