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 South Sudan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
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 marimba 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 Quando Quango to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Livin' Joy,
Alphaville,
Pylon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blossom Toes,
Wolf Eyes,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Wyatt,
New York Dolls,
Marvin Gaye,
Dawn Penn,
Reuben Wilson,
Moebius,
Minnie Riperton,
Skarface,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Hasil Adkins,
Procol Harum,
The Gories,
Ohio Players,
The Alarm Clocks,
Amazonics,
Magma,
Sixth Finger,
Monolake,
Harmonia,
The United States of America,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blake Baxter,
Depeche Mode,
Clear Light,
R.M.O.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Bananas,
Sight & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
The Slits,
Trumans Water,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Litter,
Audionom,
Piero Umiliani,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brass Construction,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hoover,
Mantronix,
Sandy B,
LL Cool J,
Massinfluence,
Oblivians,
The Pretty Things,
Nirvana,
Eli Mardock,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Stooges,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.