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 Czech Republic 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Offenders to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
Parry Music,
Siglo XX,
Marshall Jefferson,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Dead Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
The Leaves,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
The Raincoats,
The Neon Judgement,
John Lydon,
Bobby Womack,
Newcleus,
Shoche,
Oblivians,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Theoretical Girls,
MDC,
Pere Ubu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stetsasonic,
Excepter,
Hardrive,
Severed Heads,
Mars,
a-ha,
Marmalade,
Bronski Beat,
Buzzcocks,
Alison Limerick,
Dennis Brown,
Flash Fearless,
Sällskapet,
Franke,
Rod Modell,
Todd Rundgren,
Mad Mike,
Duran Duran,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arab on Radar,
Outsiders,
Wolf Eyes,
Wings,
Youth Brigade,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jesper Dahlback,
Terry Callier,
Nas,
The Wake,
Nick Fraelich,
Johnny Osbourne,
Boz Scaggs,
Amon Düül II,
Isaac Hayes,
Index,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.