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 Venezuela and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron 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 The Moody Blues to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aaron Thompson,
Rotary Connection,
Marc Almond,
The Standells,
Half Japanese,
Arthur Verocai,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Blackbyrds,
Desert Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brand Nubian,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fugazi,
Anthony Braxton,
Girls At Our Best!,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Black Dice,
Anakelly,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gap Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Slave,
The Raincoats,
Harry Pussy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Con Funk Shun,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Womack,
the Association,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Stooges,
Intrusion,
Archie Shepp,
Black Moon,
Sugar Minott,
Roxette,
Swans,
Saccharine Trust,
The Remains,
Excepter,
Motorama,
Skaos,
The Saints,
the Sonics,
The Music Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vainqueur,
Marvin Gaye,
Pere Ubu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sight & Sound,
Japan,
Cameo,
Bang On A Can,
Stetsasonic,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Seeds,
China Crisis,
Audionom,
Country Teasers,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.