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 Senegal and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 David Bowie 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 Rosa Yemen to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Freddie Wadling,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lungfish,
The Toasters,
Dark Day,
Model 500,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Cheater Slicks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Arthur Verocai,
Rosa Yemen,
John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
Deadbeat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David McCallum,
Los Fastidios,
The Misunderstood,
Wings,
Theoretical Girls,
One Last Wish,
Second Layer,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Warren Ellis,
Blancmange,
Rites of Spring,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Zero Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brass Construction,
Donny Hathaway,
Roxy Music,
The Beau Brummels,
Kerrie Biddell,
Symarip,
Barrington Levy,
Y Pants,
Urselle,
Kaleidoscope,
H. Thieme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
UT,
The Detroit Cobras,
Negative Approach,
Throbbing Gristle,
Frankie Knuckles,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobby Byrd,
Colin Newman,
Al Stewart,
Suburban Knight,
Eddi Front,
Shoche,
Jeff Mills,
Mo-Dettes,
Pantaleimon,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.