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 Belarus 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Junior Murvin to the crunk 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ronan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
a-ha,
Lungfish,
Porter Ricks,
AZ,
The Cure,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Average White Band,
the Human League,
Pagans,
Sarah Menescal,
The Techniques,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Whodini,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Matthew Halsall,
Qualms,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Hutcherson,
David Bowie,
Sunsets and Hearts,
This Heat,
Con Funk Shun,
The Human League,
Hot Snakes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Aswad,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gories,
The Divine Comedy,
E-Dancer,
Drexciya,
Scan 7,
The Leaves,
Warsaw,
Motorama,
Gong,
Khruangbin,
Moss Icon,
Interpol,
Eli Mardock,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dave Gahan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Happenings,
Hoover,
Henry Cow,
Ornette Coleman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Trojans,
Soft Cell,
Shuggie Otis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.