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 Laos and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Kurtis Blow,
Eli Mardock,
In Retrospect,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Henry Cow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Average White Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Motorama,
Funky Four + One,
Gang Green,
Judy Mowatt,
Byron Stingily,
David Axelrod,
Bobbi Humphrey,
June Days,
Nico,
Guru Guru,
Half Japanese,
Crime,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Happenings,
Bauhaus,
Quando Quango,
Don Cherry,
Soul II Soul,
Joe Smooth,
The Monochrome Set,
Aural Exciters,
Supertramp,
Reagan Youth,
Public Enemy,
The Slits,
Eddi Front,
The Evens,
Kool Moe Dee,
Magazine,
the Human League,
Icehouse,
Fugazi,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kenny Larkin,
Flipper,
Yaz,
Basic Channel,
Joe Finger,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sugar Minott,
Vladislav Delay,
Fat Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Siglo XX,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Juan Atkins,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sound,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.