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 Zimbabwe and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Ronnie Foster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stetsasonic,
Easy Going,
Bad Manners,
Man Eating Sloth,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fugs,
Fat Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Raincoats,
Qualms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Human League,
B.T. Express,
Faust,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Electric Prunes,
Arthur Verocai,
Chrome,
Newcleus,
Moebius,
the Soft Cell,
Oblivians,
Rhythm & Sound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Symarip,
Nas,
Tommy Roe,
The Sonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dawn Penn,
Amon Düül,
Moby Grape,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Pop Group,
Mr. Review,
Dead Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joensuu 1685,
ABBA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ash Ra Tempel,
One Last Wish,
Nico,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deepchord,
The Vogues,
Charles Mingus,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Slackers,
Kurtis Blow,
Whodini,
Minnie Riperton,
Lower 48,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nation of Ulysses,
The J.B.'s,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.