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 Iran and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
The Remains,
Altered Images,
The Last Poets,
Severed Heads,
Lalo Schifrin,
Essential Logic,
These Immortal Souls,
K-Klass,
EPMD,
Motorama,
Rapeman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sister Nancy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Inner City,
Janne Schatter,
Mars,
Sun City Girls,
Terry Callier,
The Fire Engines,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soft Machine,
Q65,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Foxx,
Eden Ahbez,
Mandrill,
Lakeside,
Saccharine Trust,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monks,
New Order,
Ponytail,
The United States of America,
Robert Wyatt,
the Germs,
The Fuzztones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Colin Newman,
Pere Ubu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Drive Like Jehu,
48th St. Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Infiniti,
Agitation Free,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lucky Dragons,
Shoche,
8 Eyed Spy,
Electric Prunes,
Alice Coltrane,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Slave,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Scott Walker,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.