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 Gabon and from Lyon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Alton Ellis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Scott Walker,
Blossom Toes,
Crime,
Eric Copeland,
Masters at Work,
Nils Olav,
AZ,
Patti Smith,
ABBA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Q and Not U,
Deepchord,
Urselle,
Accadde A,
Fela Kuti,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Teasers,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Smog,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yaz,
Eric Dolphy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Howard Jones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moebius,
Average White Band,
Supertramp,
Pylon,
Funky Four + One,
The Offenders,
a-ha,
Lou Christie,
Moby Grape,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
A Certain Ratio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Inner City,
Eden Ahbez,
Grauzone,
Don Cherry,
Faraquet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bauhaus,
The Busters,
D'Angelo,
Agitation Free,
Dorothy Ashby,
Malaria!,
Moss Icon,
Thompson Twins,
Kurtis Blow,
Toni Rubio,
Sugar Minott,
Drexciya,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.