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 Indonesia and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Spandau Ballet to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Yusef Lateef,
World's Most,
Roger Hodgson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Lydon,
Swans,
Cecil Taylor,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The American Breed,
Negative Approach,
Sandy B,
Saccharine Trust,
The Barracudas,
Infiniti,
Robert Görl,
Royal Trux,
Nik Kershaw,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Terry Callier,
Sarah Menescal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stetsasonic,
Chrome,
Johnny Osbourne,
Average White Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cameo,
Wally Richardson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Skaos,
The Doobie Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
Glenn Branca,
Ten City,
Eric Copeland,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Oneida,
UT,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nico,
John Holt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Angry Samoans,
Ronnie Foster,
Simply Red,
Groovy Waters,
E-Dancer,
Aswad,
The Black Dice,
Isaac Hayes,
The Busters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Clear Light,
The Last Poets,
The Golliwogs,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.