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 Bhutan and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Ronnie Foster to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Ultra Naté,
Outsiders,
Matthew Halsall,
Pulsallama,
Ken Boothe,
Bauhaus,
Minny Pops,
The Gun Club,
Banda Bassotti,
Robert Hood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Subhumans,
Faust,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Star Department,
Yazoo,
Robert Görl,
The Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soul II Soul,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fire Engines,
Kas Product,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tommy Roe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Interpol,
Blake Baxter,
Lyres,
L. Decosne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Remains,
Tom Boy,
Rapeman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare,
The Durutti Column,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Byron Stingily,
Donald Byrd,
The Smiths,
Ice-T,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Womack,
Monks,
Magma,
Motorama,
The Grass Roots,
Swell Maps,
Jacques Brel,
Bill Wells,
Kurtis Blow,
The Music Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Piero Umiliani,
Brand Nubian,
Flash Fearless,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.