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 Egypt and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Slick Rick to the dance 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Marvin Gaye,
Pulsallama,
Icehouse,
The Slits,
Fatback Band,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Suicide,
Infiniti,
The Fuzztones,
Tubeway Army,
Au Pairs,
Stiv Bators,
Piero Umiliani,
Brass Construction,
Clear Light,
The Mojo Men,
The Gap Band,
The Slackers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rakim,
Young Marble Giants,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mummies,
Susan Cadogan,
Toni Rubio,
Sight & Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joy Division,
Sister Nancy,
ABBA,
Ornette Coleman,
The Misunderstood,
Cluster,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Happenings,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Soft Cell,
Desert Stars,
The Move,
Kaleidoscope,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barclay James Harvest,
June of 44,
James White and The Blacks,
The Searchers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Tremeloes,
Rosa Yemen,
The Sound,
Terry Callier,
Joe Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.