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 Tanzania and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Sandy B to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Camouflage,
a-ha,
Mr. Review,
The Busters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faraquet,
David McCallum,
Boogie Down Productions,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tears for Fears,
Das Ding,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Womack,
Bizarre Inc.,
Desert Stars,
Echospace,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pierre Henry,
Agitation Free,
The Five Americans,
Metal Thangz,
Glenn Branca,
Zapp,
Ultravox,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Matthew Halsall,
Suburban Knight,
ABC,
Big Daddy Kane,
Prince Buster,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amazonics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fatback Band,
Sonic Youth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Flipper,
Carl Craig,
Ken Boothe,
Bauhaus,
Todd Terry,
F. McDonald,
Massinfluence,
Subhumans,
Jeff Lynne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Simply Red,
Michelle Simonal,
Lakeside,
The Stooges,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ronnie Foster,
10cc,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fat Boys,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.