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 Kosovo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Frankie Knuckles to the funk 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
The J.B.'s,
The Names,
The Blackbyrds,
The Golliwogs,
Jacques Brel,
Negative Approach,
New Order,
Mo-Dettes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Offenders,
Masters at Work,
Clear Light,
Aural Exciters,
New Age Steppers,
Sparks,
Roxette,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Finger,
Grey Daturas,
Tommy Roe,
Moby Grape,
Dead Boys,
The Music Machine,
The Durutti Column,
Joey Negro,
Nils Olav,
Sonny Sharrock,
Girls At Our Best!,
Matthew Bourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Zapp,
Nirvana,
Cecil Taylor,
Bill Wells,
Brick,
Tears for Fears,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
The Tremeloes,
Fatback Band,
The Barracudas,
Camberwell Now,
Inner City,
MC5,
Agent Orange,
Ornette Coleman,
Cymande,
Brand Nubian,
Con Funk Shun,
Silicon Teens,
The Moody Blues,
The Standells,
Severed Heads,
David Axelrod,
Hot Snakes,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.