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 Malta and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pylon 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
The Mojo Men,
Cecil Taylor,
Frankie Knuckles,
Interpol,
Duran Duran,
The Move,
The Blues Magoos,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Wyatt,
Index,
Blake Baxter,
The Walker Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Eli Mardock,
the Bar-Kays,
Urselle,
Excepter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smoke,
Stetsasonic,
Rekid,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ohio Players,
Harry Pussy,
Young Marble Giants,
The Doobie Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Josef K,
Ultra Naté,
Eden Ahbez,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Skaos,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacques Brel,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Normal,
Half Japanese,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerrie Biddell,
K-Klass,
The Moleskins,
Clear Light,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alton Ellis,
T.S.O.L.,
Soft Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alice Coltrane,
Scan 7,
Quando Quango,
The Grass Roots,
Talk Talk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Five Americans,
8 Eyed Spy,
FM Einheit,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.