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 Italy and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb 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 Trumans Water to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Rites of Spring,
Model 500,
Schoolly D,
Liliput,
Tim Buckley,
a-ha,
KRS-One,
Dark Day,
Negative Approach,
Quantec,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Zeros,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Buckinghams,
the Normal,
Silicon Teens,
Pantytec,
The Red Krayola,
Sugar Minott,
Massinfluence,
Soulsonic Force,
Stetsasonic,
the Germs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Grass Roots,
Mr. Review,
Yellowson,
The Cramps,
Scan 7,
Boredoms,
Q65,
Alice Coltrane,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ronan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Connie Case,
Patti Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sonny Sharrock,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Visage,
Black Sheep,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Freddie Wadling,
Hashim,
The Beau Brummels,
Warren Ellis,
Unwound,
Saccharine Trust,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Desert Stars,
The Index,
The Golliwogs,
Yazoo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Intrusion,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.