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 Andorra and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes 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 Byron Stingily to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Dave Gahan,
Intrusion,
The Angels of Light,
Crash Course in Science,
Alphaville,
Outsiders,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Starr,
Siglo XX,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Don Cherry,
Lalann,
Sixth Finger,
The Grass Roots,
Yellowson,
Laurel Aitken,
Guru Guru,
Parry Music,
the Swans,
Von Mondo,
ABBA,
Barbara Tucker,
It's A Beautiful Day,
U.S. Maple,
Interpol,
10cc,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Certain Ratio,
Leonard Cohen,
Minnie Riperton,
The Residents,
Godley & Creme,
Fat Boys,
Stiv Bators,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Last Poets,
ABC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Groovy Waters,
Agent Orange,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Fania All-Stars,
Visage,
Kenny Larkin,
Harry Pussy,
Nils Olav,
Circle Jerks,
New Age Steppers,
Eric Copeland,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Five Americans,
The Dead C,
Wire,
Boredoms,
Blancmange,
The Remains,
Funkadelic,
Tom Boy,
Robert Hood,
The Litter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.