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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 This Heat to the crunk 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Erykah Badu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fluxion,
Harmonia,
Scientists,
Nik Kershaw,
Matthew Halsall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Talk Talk,
Shoche,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Royal Trux,
The Fall,
Wolf Eyes,
Byron Stingily,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Amon Düül II,
Glambeats Corp.,
Monolake,
A Certain Ratio,
FM Einheit,
The Offenders,
The Saints,
Pet Shop Boys,
Juan Atkins,
The Busters,
Can,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Howard Jones,
Arthur Verocai,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Near,
Bootsy Collins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
Masters at Work,
David Bowie,
The Cure,
The Fuzztones,
Kas Product,
Easy Going,
The Cowsills,
The American Breed,
Arab on Radar,
The Invisible,
The Fugs,
Scan 7,
Audionom,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Star Department,
Bang On A Can,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sister Nancy,
Eurythmics,
Tom Boy,
Soft Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Khruangbin,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.