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 Argentina and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 The Kinks to the jazz 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slits,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arthur Verocai,
Brass Construction,
Todd Rundgren,
The Vogues,
Barbara Tucker,
Ossler,
U.S. Maple,
the Soft Cell,
Gang Green,
Sound Behaviour,
The Music Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nik Kershaw,
Zapp,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sister Nancy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cal Tjader,
Jeff Mills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jawbox,
Sex Pistols,
Fluxion,
MDC,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joyce Sims,
John Lydon,
CMW,
The Leaves,
KRS-One,
Public Image Ltd.,
Harry Pussy,
Lindisfarne,
Johnny Clarke,
June Days,
Intrusion,
Piero Umiliani,
Carl Craig,
Sight & Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Tremeloes,
Thompson Twins,
The Zeros,
Scientists,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tim Buckley,
Oblivians,
The Pop Group,
Minny Pops,
Judy Mowatt,
The Associates,
Sandy B,
Ten City,
Connie Case,
Mission of Burma,
Brothers Johnson,
Quando Quango,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.