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 Norway and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 Donald Byrd to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Susan Cadogan,
Outsiders,
Jeff Mills,
The Remains,
The Litter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Moleskins,
Black Moon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
Quadrant,
Au Pairs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Trumans Water,
Dawn Penn,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lalann,
Crispian St. Peters,
Khruangbin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Electric Prunes,
Grauzone,
New Age Steppers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Names,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barclay James Harvest,
Surgeon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yaz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Zapp,
Shoche,
Connie Case,
Lower 48,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arcadia,
Yusef Lateef,
Japan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Warsaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magma,
The Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Franke,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terry Callier,
Wally Richardson,
The Gories,
The Busters,
Scrapy,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.