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 Denmark and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Erykah Badu to the techno 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ornette Coleman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bronski Beat,
Soft Machine,
The Misunderstood,
Rosa Yemen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David McCallum,
Derrick May,
Ken Boothe,
Nas,
Guru Guru,
Quantec,
Crooked Eye,
Jeff Mills,
The Zeros,
Kerri Chandler,
Fat Boys,
The Happenings,
Cal Tjader,
Qualms,
Ronan,
Urselle,
The J.B.'s,
the Human League,
The Music Machine,
Bootsy Collins,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
KRS-One,
Bang On A Can,
Anthony Braxton,
Funky Four + One,
LL Cool J,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Television,
Camberwell Now,
Eden Ahbez,
Kayak,
DJ Sneak,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rekid,
the Normal,
Harpers Bizarre,
Malaria!,
Kurtis Blow,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Visage,
Essential Logic,
Juan Atkins,
Loose Ends,
The Gap Band,
Roxette,
New York Dolls,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.