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 Venezuela and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Pantytec to the grime 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
48th St. Collective,
Reuben Wilson,
Organ,
Skaos,
Eurythmics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lucky Dragons,
New Order,
Scratch Acid,
Tomorrow,
Cluster,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Clear Light,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Pus,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sight & Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Surgeon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Slave,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bronski Beat,
The Fuzztones,
The Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Nirvana,
Cybotron,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T. Rex,
Boredoms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Davy DMX,
Skarface,
Gerry Rafferty,
Little Man,
Sugar Minott,
Nation of Ulysses,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Adolescents,
Roy Ayers,
The Cowsills,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roger Hodgson,
Popol Vuh,
Ossler,
The Martian,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
Absolute Body Control,
Bill Wells,
Index,
Sandy B,
Junior Murvin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pylon,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.