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 Mozambique and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum 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 Y Pants to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
June of 44,
The Flesh Eaters,
Boz Scaggs,
The Moody Blues,
Malaria!,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-102,
Brothers Johnson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Circle Jerks,
Visage,
Rekid,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cameo,
Glenn Branca,
The Neon Judgement,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fatback Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultravox,
Altered Images,
Grauzone,
H. Thieme,
Crooked Eye,
Maleditus Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Peter & Gordon,
Lakeside,
CMW,
Popol Vuh,
Minor Threat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brick,
The Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Underground Resistance,
Barry Ungar,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Green,
Saccharine Trust,
Funky Four + One,
Talk Talk,
Clear Light,
Ice-T,
The Invisible,
Audionom,
Faust,
The Last Poets,
Steve Hackett,
Fugazi,
The Happenings,
Max Romeo,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.