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 Portugal and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 Mantronix to the disco 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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Trumans Water,
Fluxion,
Sun City Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minor Threat,
Alphaville,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gregory Isaacs,
K-Klass,
Vladislav Delay,
Section 25,
Roxette,
Roxy Music,
The Barracudas,
James White and The Blacks,
Peter & Gordon,
Althea and Donna,
Boz Scaggs,
Magma,
Rod Modell,
10cc,
Mars,
Pylon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Stooges,
Mo-Dettes,
R.M.O.,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco,
OOIOO,
Silicon Teens,
Basic Channel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Angels of Light,
Lindisfarne,
Q and Not U,
Audionom,
Marvin Gaye,
Bush Tetras,
The Offenders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donny Hathaway,
Bang On A Can,
Tomorrow,
Gong,
Siglo XX,
Nick Fraelich,
Adolescents,
Sällskapet,
Ossler,
The Divine Comedy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Pussy Galore,
Severed Heads,
Deepchord,
Rufus Thomas,
Idris Muhammad,
Crime,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.