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 Namibia and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar 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 Bill Near to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
The Cure,
Sparks,
Silicon Teens,
Kaleidoscope,
Desert Stars,
Ultravox,
Mark Hollis,
Aural Exciters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Minor Threat,
The Electric Prunes,
The Real Kids,
Tommy Roe,
Gabor Szabo,
Circle Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Y Pants,
Andrew Hill,
The Music Machine,
Flipper,
the Human League,
Ohio Players,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tres Demented,
Eden Ahbez,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eli Mardock,
Gang of Four,
Unrelated Segments,
Wally Richardson,
World's Most,
Scientists,
Skarface,
Urselle,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Swans,
Motorama,
Carl Craig,
Lower 48,
Fad Gadget,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Beau Brummels,
Neil Young,
Junior Murvin,
Severed Heads,
Index,
Arab on Radar,
Schoolly D,
Zero Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
D'Angelo,
Brick,
The Slits,
T. Rex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gichy Dan,
Mad Mike,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.