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 Kyrgyzstan and from Philadelphia.
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 Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bizarre Inc. to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Crooked Eye,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scion,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young,
Cheater Slicks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Martian,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
World's Most,
Pierre Henry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Womack,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick May,
Sällskapet,
X-101,
the Swans,
Buzzcocks,
Mad Mike,
Suicide,
Arcadia,
The Human League,
Sugar Minott,
John Foxx,
Mission of Burma,
Skarface,
Bill Wells,
Scan 7,
PIL,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grey Daturas,
Gabor Szabo,
The Standells,
Yusef Lateef,
The Barracudas,
The Names,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
K-Klass,
Johnny Clarke,
The Alarm Clocks,
Camouflage,
Maleditus Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Darondo,
Monks,
T.S.O.L.,
OOIOO,
Depeche Mode,
Michelle Simonal,
Grandmaster Flash,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Deadbeat,
The Stooges,
Swell Maps,
Nik Kershaw,
The Evens,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.