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 Ecuador and from New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Electric Prunes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Jesus and Mary Chain record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Kerri Chandler,
Heaven 17,
T.S.O.L.,
Funkadelic,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Lower 48,
Cal Tjader,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Deepchord,
Al Stewart,
The Music Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jerry's Kids,
Pulsallama,
Derrick Morgan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
Jandek,
Brothers Johnson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mars,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pagans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Susan Cadogan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Birthday Party,
Darondo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minutemen,
Kerrie Biddell,
Chris Corsano,
The Modern Lovers,
Nas,
Joyce Sims,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
Maurizio,
Bluetip,
Bobby Sherman,
Andrew Hill,
Masters at Work,
The Red Krayola,
Pere Ubu,
The Moody Blues,
The Fire Engines,
Mark Hollis,
Mission of Burma,
K-Klass,
Jawbox,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.