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 Croatia and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fear to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
PIL,
Rekid,
the Fania All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sun City Girls,
The Buckinghams,
Stetsasonic,
Dual Sessions,
The Fuzztones,
Stiv Bators,
The Gap Band,
Scrapy,
Hashim,
Nik Kershaw,
David Bowie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pussy Galore,
The Angels of Light,
Byron Stingily,
Susan Cadogan,
Aloha Tigers,
Q and Not U,
Cybotron,
Newcleus,
The Neon Judgement,
Eurythmics,
the Sonics,
Desert Stars,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Circle Jerks,
Mo-Dettes,
Archie Shepp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Malaria!,
Nirvana,
Fad Gadget,
Tubeway Army,
The Leaves,
Neu!,
Pantytec,
Masters at Work,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sällskapet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Television,
The Moody Blues,
Young Marble Giants,
Darondo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Star Department,
UT,
Tres Demented,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Pretty Things,
The Count Five,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.