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 Ivory Coast and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rock 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
the Swans,
E-Dancer,
Desert Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gap Band,
The Star Department,
Rotary Connection,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Clear Light,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gichy Dan,
The Wake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New York Dolls,
The Fuzztones,
The Associates,
The Five Americans,
Don Cherry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scott Walker,
Gang of Four,
Hot Snakes,
Arab on Radar,
10cc,
Yazoo,
Fat Boys,
Hoover,
R.M.O.,
Barbara Tucker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Clarke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Liliput,
Chris & Cosey,
Tears for Fears,
Lower 48,
U.S. Maple,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unrelated Segments,
LL Cool J,
Donny Hathaway,
Jacob Miller,
OOIOO,
The Count Five,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Faust,
Barry Ungar,
Flamin' Groovies,
Organ,
Ituana,
Boz Scaggs,
Minnie Riperton,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.