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 Azerbaijan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 The Flesh Eaters to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Golliwogs,
Letta Mbulu,
Albert Ayler,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brothers Johnson,
Alton Ellis,
The Kinks,
KRS-One,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
T.S.O.L.,
The Busters,
Oblivians,
Joey Negro,
Gang of Four,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Japan,
Black Flag,
Tommy Roe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nils Olav,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Graham Central Station,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Skriet,
Gang Gang Dance,
Drexciya,
Yusef Lateef,
Fluxion,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bob Dylan,
Yellowson,
Robert Görl,
Rod Modell,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Interpol,
Derrick May,
The Leaves,
Skarface,
Magma,
Byron Stingily,
Eric Dolphy,
The Birthday Party,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Los Fastidios,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sonic Youth,
EPMD,
Dennis Brown,
A Certain Ratio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eden Ahbez,
Circle Jerks,
FM Einheit,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.