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 Russia and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Michael McDonald 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the disco 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Porter Ricks,
The Saints,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
June Days,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ronan,
Stiv Bators,
Darondo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Busters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
One Last Wish,
FM Einheit,
Kaleidoscope,
Pole,
K-Klass,
Groovy Waters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fluxion,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marc Almond,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q and Not U,
T.S.O.L.,
Dual Sessions,
ABC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Freddie Wadling,
Niagra,
The Associates,
Aaron Thompson,
Crash Course in Science,
Eric Dolphy,
Johnny Clarke,
Spoonie Gee,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Maurizio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
New Order,
The Five Americans,
Neu!,
Nils Olav,
Donny Hathaway,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fad Gadget,
Eric B and Rakim,
Desert Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
David McCallum,
Amon Düül II,
Soul II Soul,
X-101,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.