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 Congo and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 John Cale to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Bauhaus,
The Kinks,
Y Pants,
Kerrie Biddell,
Oneida,
Reagan Youth,
Albert Ayler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ice-T,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Black Dice,
Kenny Larkin,
Groovy Waters,
Steve Hackett,
X-102,
Shuggie Otis,
Mark Hollis,
Adolescents,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mantronix,
Ludus,
In Retrospect,
The Martian,
John Lydon,
Al Stewart,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Popol Vuh,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxy Music,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang of Four,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ten City,
Black Flag,
Patti Smith,
Mission of Burma,
Dead Boys,
The Human League,
Jeru the Damaja,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Skatalites,
Cecil Taylor,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DNA,
Mr. Review,
Nick Fraelich,
Derrick May,
Neil Young,
The Red Krayola,
Aswad,
The Divine Comedy,
Lungfish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hasil Adkins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.