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 El Salvador and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Index to the dance 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Archie Shepp,
The Selecter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June Days,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hasil Adkins,
Stereo Dub,
Animal Collective,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Toasters,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mummies,
Oneida,
Sun Ra,
Rekid,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Carl Craig,
Scratch Acid,
Pantytec,
The Remains,
Malaria!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Erykah Badu,
Connie Case,
Boz Scaggs,
Cymande,
Tropical Tobacco,
Albert Ayler,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
Ituana,
Negative Approach,
Godley & Creme,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ornette Coleman,
ABBA,
Soft Machine,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Clarke,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alice Coltrane,
Magazine,
The Tremeloes,
Rites of Spring,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Laurel Aitken,
Circle Jerks,
Juan Atkins,
Basic Channel,
Aaron Thompson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Desert Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Henry Cow,
Goldenarms,
Wally Richardson,
The Gladiators,
Kayak,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.