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 Jordan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lalann to the techno 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
kango's stein massive,
Newcleus,
Sam Rivers,
The Golliwogs,
the Human League,
Minutemen,
Pylon,
Fugazi,
Johnny Clarke,
Dorothy Ashby,
Altered Images,
Camouflage,
Wally Richardson,
Eurythmics,
Country Teasers,
Massinfluence,
Groovy Waters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Trojans,
Susan Cadogan,
The Vogues,
Japan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Young Marble Giants,
Severed Heads,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minny Pops,
Patti Smith,
Faraquet,
Spoonie Gee,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
EPMD,
Scion,
The Blues Magoos,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
New Order,
Guru Guru,
Camberwell Now,
The Selecter,
Smog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Beau Brummels,
Frankie Knuckles,
Charles Mingus,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dave Gahan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Vainqueur,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rotary Connection,
cv313,
Technova,
Urselle,
The Last Poets,
T. Rex,
Donny Hathaway,
Iggy Pop,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.