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 Norway and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet 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 Blues Magoos to the grunge 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Mission of Burma,
Japan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Iggy Pop,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rod Modell,
Al Stewart,
Duran Duran,
Bush Tetras,
Fluxion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Peter & Gordon,
The Tremeloes,
Tres Demented,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Starr,
Gregory Isaacs,
Man Parrish,
Guru Guru,
Lower 48,
Pere Ubu,
The Raincoats,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Deadbeat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minor Threat,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deakin,
Echospace,
Fugazi,
Don Cherry,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare,
Minny Pops,
Joe Finger,
Mandrill,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bill Wells,
DNA,
Bob Dylan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Robert Görl,
Ohio Players,
Accadde A,
Freddie Wadling,
New York Dolls,
The Grass Roots,
The Selecter,
The Remains,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blues Magoos,
Minnie Riperton,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Andrew Hill,
Anthony Braxton,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.