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 Canada and from Stockholm.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 Slits to the dance 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Barracudas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Funky Four + One,
Brothers Johnson,
Boz Scaggs,
Q65,
Bill Wells,
Pantaleimon,
The Smiths,
Desert Stars,
Rekid,
Marmalade,
Malaria!,
Jeff Lynne,
Aloha Tigers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultra Naté,
The Alarm Clocks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gories,
Connie Case,
Dark Day,
Yellowson,
Reuben Wilson,
Scientists,
Prince Buster,
Albert Ayler,
Roxy Music,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pole,
Tears for Fears,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rapeman,
Grey Daturas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Hood,
New York Dolls,
Spandau Ballet,
The Sonics,
David McCallum,
Brass Construction,
Kerri Chandler,
The Vogues,
Peter & Gordon,
Sight & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Joe Smooth,
Surgeon,
Alton Ellis,
OOIOO,
Popol Vuh,
Magma,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hardrive,
Susan Cadogan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Visage,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.