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 Papua New Guinea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Hashim to the grunge 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
R.M.O.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Donny Hathaway,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Don Cherry,
The Black Dice,
T. Rex,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Martian,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crash Course in Science,
China Crisis,
The Sonics,
Ludus,
Model 500,
Prince Buster,
the Germs,
June Days,
Neil Young,
Main Source,
Qualms,
Reagan Youth,
Roxy Music,
Public Enemy,
Barrington Levy,
Aloha Tigers,
The Birthday Party,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Modern Lovers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
La Düsseldorf,
Tim Buckley,
Cal Tjader,
The Count Five,
Joe Smooth,
Idris Muhammad,
Suicide,
Nick Fraelich,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobby Sherman,
Davy DMX,
Marshall Jefferson,
Monks,
The Red Krayola,
Zero Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Maurizio,
Mark Hollis,
The Fortunes,
The Techniques,
Ohio Players,
The Cure,
Juan Atkins,
The Skatalites,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hasil Adkins,
Sex Pistols,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tommy Roe,
Liliput,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.