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 Nigeria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and New York.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Juan Atkins to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Slits,
Donny Hathaway,
The Alarm Clocks,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
June Days,
Joyce Sims,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
Rosa Yemen,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swell Maps,
Al Stewart,
Harmonia,
Spoonie Gee,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Adolescents,
Man Parrish,
Public Enemy,
Jacques Brel,
Charles Mingus,
The Modern Lovers,
Kas Product,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
AZ,
Godley & Creme,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Motions,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sugar Minott,
The Names,
U.S. Maple,
The Gladiators,
Drexciya,
Smog,
Ituana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Leaves,
Lou Reed,
Inner City,
Barclay James Harvest,
Clear Light,
The Kinks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Symarip,
Nick Fraelich,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cramps,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Human League,
Juan Atkins,
June of 44,
Cal Tjader,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.