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 Serbia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the grime 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
48th St. Collective,
Hasil Adkins,
Nas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-101,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Panda Bear,
Public Image Ltd.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Funky Four + One,
Pylon,
Gang Starr,
F. McDonald,
Sister Nancy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Metal Thangz,
Henry Cow,
The Gories,
Marvin Gaye,
Smog,
Groovy Waters,
Gong,
The Tremeloes,
The Fire Engines,
Wally Richardson,
Patti Smith,
Jeff Lynne,
Matthew Halsall,
The Zeros,
Bauhaus,
Skriet,
Index,
Eddi Front,
KRS-One,
Parry Music,
Joy Division,
Thee Headcoats,
Can,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
EPMD,
Sun City Girls,
The Five Americans,
The Gun Club,
The Kinks,
Slick Rick,
Duran Duran,
Don Cherry,
The Mojo Men,
Television Personalities,
Ponytail,
The Raincoats,
Joensuu 1685,
New York Dolls,
The Names,
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crash Course in Science,
Faust,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scan 7,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.