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 Burundi and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Das Ding to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Golliwogs,
Organ,
Boz Scaggs,
Sound Behaviour,
Royal Trux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Basic Channel,
EPMD,
8 Eyed Spy,
Icehouse,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marc Almond,
The Blackbyrds,
a-ha,
Sixth Finger,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bootsy Collins,
Nick Fraelich,
The Move,
Amazonics,
The Grass Roots,
Jacob Miller,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rod Modell,
Cal Tjader,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stereo Dub,
Magazine,
Lightning Bolt,
The Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heaven 17,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Shoche,
The Mummies,
Symarip,
Zapp,
DNA,
The Martian,
Aaron Thompson,
Davy DMX,
Albert Ayler,
Deadbeat,
Steve Hackett,
Inner City,
Black Bananas,
China Crisis,
Tom Boy,
Eric Dolphy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Altered Images,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kurtis Blow,
The Invisible,
The Real Kids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pantaleimon,
The Monochrome Set,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.