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 Swaziland and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Young Rascals to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Infiniti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pagans,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Q65,
Junior Murvin,
Hasil Adkins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siglo XX,
Brothers Johnson,
Gong,
Eurythmics,
Roy Ayers,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash,
Oblivians,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gories,
Drive Like Jehu,
Roxette,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alton Ellis,
Byron Stingily,
Al Stewart,
The Techniques,
Freddie Wadling,
Marmalade,
Steve Hackett,
Harry Pussy,
Cymande,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aloha Tigers,
Gichy Dan,
Subhumans,
World's Most,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joe Finger,
Quantec,
David Axelrod,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Fania All-Stars,
Malaria!,
Fugazi,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blancmange,
Absolute Body Control,
Vainqueur,
KRS-One,
L. Decosne,
The Offenders,
Section 25,
Das Ding,
The Moleskins,
The Pretty Things,
The Slackers,
Chris Corsano,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arcadia,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.