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 Albania and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 David Bowie 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 Wally Richardson to the grime 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Ultra Naté,
The Fugs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Spandau Ballet,
Model 500,
Cecil Taylor,
Darondo,
The Barracudas,
48th St. Collective,
The Litter,
Cymande,
Fad Gadget,
Los Fastidios,
The Martian,
Pole,
Reagan Youth,
Tim Buckley,
Blossom Toes,
Bad Manners,
Hasil Adkins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Womack,
Kas Product,
Au Pairs,
Boredoms,
X-101,
Joy Division,
Robert Wyatt,
The Black Dice,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lyres,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eve St. Jones,
The Red Krayola,
Circle Jerks,
Funky Four + One,
Moebius,
The Misunderstood,
Organ,
James White and The Blacks,
the Human League,
Camouflage,
Goldenarms,
Japan,
Max Romeo,
Delta 5,
Junior Murvin,
Man Parrish,
The Evens,
Minor Threat,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mad Mike,
UT,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Y Pants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Glenn Branca,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.