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 Vietnam and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 One Last Wish to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Lower 48,
The Seeds,
Cybotron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Sheep,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
In Retrospect,
Blancmange,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Busters,
Scientists,
Maleditus Sound,
Cecil Taylor,
Tim Buckley,
the Soft Cell,
Erasure,
Rapeman,
F. McDonald,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Cale,
Morten Harket,
Roxy Music,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultravox,
Scott Walker,
Banda Bassotti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bizarre Inc.,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barrington Levy,
Eurythmics,
Yusef Lateef,
The Velvet Underground,
New Order,
The Wake,
Lee Hazlewood,
Todd Terry,
Desert Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Doors,
Black Moon,
The Motions,
Excepter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ohio Players,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
Amon Düül II,
Bootsy Collins,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Womack,
R.M.O.,
Guru Guru,
Fela Kuti,
Siglo XX,
Kayak,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.