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 Denmark and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Dead C to the techno 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mandrill,
Dennis Brown,
Marc Almond,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flipper,
Terrestrial Tones,
Chrome,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Judy Mowatt,
Arthur Verocai,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Radio Birdman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Searchers,
The Seeds,
X-Ray Spex,
48th St. Collective,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Machine,
Cybotron,
Brass Construction,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultra Naté,
Silicon Teens,
John Holt,
Altered Images,
Tears for Fears,
Deakin,
Little Man,
Peter & Gordon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Andrew Hill,
Mr. Review,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Technova,
The Selecter,
Roxy Music,
Janne Schatter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Desert Stars,
The Slits,
Fad Gadget,
Cal Tjader,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scrapy,
Reagan Youth,
EPMD,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cure,
The Star Department,
CMW,
Procol Harum,
Rapeman,
Slick Rick,
Grey Daturas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.