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 Bahrain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Aswad to the funk 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Malaria!,
Kaleidoscope,
The Misunderstood,
The Raincoats,
Eric Dolphy,
H. Thieme,
Tommy Roe,
Jeff Mills,
The Happenings,
DJ Sneak,
Depeche Mode,
The Real Kids,
Neu!,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Coltrane,
Dark Day,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Zapp,
Aaron Thompson,
MC5,
The Residents,
Grey Daturas,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Mojo Men,
Circle Jerks,
Mad Mike,
48th St. Collective,
Magma,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Susan Cadogan,
The Remains,
Davy DMX,
Maurizio,
Vainqueur,
Jacob Miller,
Audionom,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Al Stewart,
Johnny Osbourne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barry Ungar,
Scrapy,
The Mummies,
The Pretty Things,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lindisfarne,
ABC,
Procol Harum,
Shuggie Otis,
Tubeway Army,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sam Rivers,
Sparks,
Yusef Lateef,
Radiohead,
Agent Orange,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.