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 Liberia and from Hong Kong.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
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 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 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 Tomorrow to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cramps,
10cc,
Marine Girls,
H. Thieme,
X-102,
Das Ding,
Nirvana,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun Ra,
Los Fastidios,
Eve St. Jones,
Neu!,
Organ,
The Black Dice,
The Fall,
Parry Music,
ABC,
Outsiders,
Minnie Riperton,
The Raincoats,
Bush Tetras,
Kurtis Blow,
Toni Rubio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aloha Tigers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Susan Cadogan,
Soft Machine,
Juan Atkins,
Anakelly,
Gabor Szabo,
China Crisis,
The Leaves,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
B.T. Express,
Dark Day,
Fluxion,
Bronski Beat,
Goldenarms,
Qualms,
Tubeway Army,
Henry Cow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brass Construction,
The Divine Comedy,
Bauhaus,
The Zeros,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
Funky Four + One,
Liliput,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scratch Acid,
Ossler,
Pussy Galore,
Fat Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sällskapet,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.