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 Azerbaijan and from Johannesburg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum 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 Sparks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arab on Radar,
Deepchord,
China Crisis,
The J.B.'s,
EPMD,
Cybotron,
Nico,
Freddie Wadling,
The Pop Group,
The Wake,
This Heat,
Supertramp,
Jeff Mills,
Leonard Cohen,
Sugar Minott,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Standells,
Underground Resistance,
Quadrant,
Fugazi,
Basic Channel,
Joy Division,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
June Days,
Black Sheep,
Soulsonic Force,
Lindisfarne,
The Names,
Dual Sessions,
Gastr Del Sol,
In Retrospect,
Nas,
Moby Grape,
The Knickerbockers,
Malaria!,
Al Stewart,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Searchers,
Laurel Aitken,
Subhumans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kayak,
Arcadia,
Skarface,
Au Pairs,
Cameo,
U.S. Maple,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Byron Stingily,
Ken Boothe,
Essential Logic,
Moss Icon,
Black Flag,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Donald Byrd,
Oblivians,
Scott Walker,
Harmonia,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.