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 Uruguay and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Hardrive to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Interpol,
Thompson Twins,
Al Stewart,
Charles Mingus,
Suburban Knight,
Deepchord,
Fela Kuti,
One Last Wish,
Faraquet,
Patti Smith,
Stereo Dub,
Technova,
UT,
The Beau Brummels,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mission of Burma,
Chrome,
Derrick May,
Minnie Riperton,
New Age Steppers,
The Trojans,
Agent Orange,
The Dirtbombs,
Nas,
Tears for Fears,
Swell Maps,
Deakin,
Lucky Dragons,
Hoover,
Ralphi Rosario,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joyce Sims,
Brick,
Colin Newman,
Massinfluence,
Trumans Water,
Camberwell Now,
The Raincoats,
Sarah Menescal,
Man Parrish,
The Fortunes,
Graham Central Station,
Franke,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash,
48th St. Collective,
Barrington Levy,
Ossler,
The Evens,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kerrie Biddell,
Archie Shepp,
Tom Boy,
Talk Talk,
Kurtis Blow,
Sixth Finger,
X-Ray Spex,
The Velvet Underground,
Carl Craig,
Hasil Adkins,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.