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 Monaco 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the crunk 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
B.T. Express,
Drexciya,
Marvin Gaye,
The Toasters,
Bobby Womack,
Wire,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jawbox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
CMW,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donald Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bobby Sherman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
OOIOO,
Das Ding,
The Stooges,
Nils Olav,
Motorama,
Mantronix,
Fat Boys,
Harmonia,
Lower 48,
Lightning Bolt,
KRS-One,
Marmalade,
The Cowsills,
The Tremeloes,
Lalann,
Gang Starr,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dave Gahan,
Ten City,
H. Thieme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ohio Players,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Pus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Red Krayola,
Subhumans,
Simply Red,
Masters at Work,
Section 25,
Cheater Slicks,
Adolescents,
Todd Terry,
Sugar Minott,
Neil Young,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fire Engines,
Isaac Hayes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mad Mike,
Eddi Front,
Pantytec,
Reuben Wilson,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.