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 St Lucia 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro 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 Terrestrial Tones to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
cv313,
Depeche Mode,
Accadde A,
Alice Coltrane,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Y Pants,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalann,
Grauzone,
Mo-Dettes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Seeds,
The Stooges,
The Alarm Clocks,
U.S. Maple,
The Human League,
Aloha Tigers,
Dark Day,
Juan Atkins,
Tres Demented,
Iggy Pop,
Johnny Osbourne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hardrive,
A Certain Ratio,
F. McDonald,
Pagans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Magma,
Ronnie Foster,
Scott Walker,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Skatalites,
OOIOO,
Deakin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gladiators,
Chris Corsano,
Althea and Donna,
Robert Görl,
Donny Hathaway,
The Slackers,
Newcleus,
The Motions,
ABBA,
Sight & Sound,
Suburban Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
Model 500,
The Five Americans,
CMW,
Marine Girls,
Cameo,
Quadrant,
Tubeway Army,
The Golliwogs,
the Association,
Janne Schatter,
Soulsonic Force,
Reuben Wilson,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxy Music,
Eve St. Jones,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.