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 Paraguay 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 Blancmange to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
DJ Style,
The Fall,
Brick,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Khruangbin,
Charles Mingus,
Yaz,
Kenny Larkin,
LL Cool J,
The Leaves,
Con Funk Shun,
Graham Central Station,
Ornette Coleman,
The Happenings,
Inner City,
Cal Tjader,
Tommy Roe,
Aswad,
Shoche,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eli Mardock,
Glenn Branca,
One Last Wish,
Piero Umiliani,
Kerri Chandler,
Suicide,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Little Man,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-Ray Spex,
Motorama,
New York Dolls,
Marmalade,
Mo-Dettes,
Accadde A,
Brothers Johnson,
Andrew Hill,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Moebius,
Theoretical Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jandek,
Lyres,
The Residents,
Bang On A Can,
Glambeats Corp.,
Simply Red,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Robert Wyatt,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Slackers,
Barrington Levy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Erasure,
Can,
Quando Quango,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Electric Prunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Ronan,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.