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 Tunisia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the dance 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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Electric Prunes,
The Stooges,
Bob Dylan,
The Vogues,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Busters,
Youth Brigade,
Kayak,
Pole,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ludus,
the Bar-Kays,
The Evens,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Iggy Pop,
Godley & Creme,
Sonic Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Angry Samoans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mojo Men,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Easy Going,
Minutemen,
Jawbox,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Y Pants,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Supertramp,
Robert Hood,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sound,
the Soft Cell,
Nirvana,
R.M.O.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeff Mills,
Mr. Review,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Anthony Braxton,
48th St. Collective,
Vladislav Delay,
Nik Kershaw,
Little Man,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Sonics,
Bobby Byrd,
Colin Newman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
K-Klass,
Sällskapet,
Sandy B,
Hot Snakes,
Newcleus,
Marc Almond,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.