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 Cameroon and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kerrie Biddell to the rock 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Erasure,
kango's stein massive,
Magma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Royal Trux,
Cheater Slicks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Shuggie Otis,
Flipper,
Smog,
Whodini,
Ossler,
JFA,
The Saints,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cramps,
Al Stewart,
Nils Olav,
Desert Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Halsall,
DJ Style,
the Normal,
The Mummies,
Cymande,
10cc,
MDC,
Lower 48,
Bobby Sherman,
Underground Resistance,
Judy Mowatt,
Graham Central Station,
Country Teasers,
The Move,
Visage,
The Durutti Column,
Motorama,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Womack,
E-Dancer,
Urselle,
Arthur Verocai,
Nik Kershaw,
Harmonia,
Tom Boy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hardrive,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brothers Johnson,
Delta 5,
R.M.O.,
Robert Wyatt,
Letta Mbulu,
Cybotron,
ABBA,
Brick,
Bob Dylan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Reagan Youth,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.