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 Uganda and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Agent Orange to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Fugazi,
Smog,
Sällskapet,
Quadrant,
The Standells,
D'Angelo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minor Threat,
Guru Guru,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kenny Larkin,
Cal Tjader,
Slave,
The Star Department,
Pylon,
John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
MDC,
Zapp,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Can,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Busters,
Desert Stars,
The Offenders,
Hot Snakes,
Arcadia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rites of Spring,
Sight & Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
the Germs,
DNA,
Subhumans,
Robert Hood,
Fela Kuti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Intrusion,
Fluxion,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül,
Magma,
Yaz,
X-102,
Ossler,
Shoche,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
10cc,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Parry Music,
The Cramps,
Das Ding,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Terry Callier,
Y Pants,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.