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 Uganda and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Minor Threat to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
The Tremeloes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bootsy Collins,
Maleditus Sound,
Brass Construction,
Suburban Knight,
Neil Young,
Gang Starr,
Donald Byrd,
Jacques Brel,
Hashim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scion,
Stereo Dub,
The Busters,
Von Mondo,
Thee Headcoats,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
Ponytail,
Magma,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pole,
LL Cool J,
These Immortal Souls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fortunes,
Pulsallama,
Rosa Yemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alison Limerick,
Groovy Waters,
The Victims,
The Black Dice,
Gang Gang Dance,
Danielle Patucci,
Desert Stars,
the Sonics,
Depeche Mode,
Gong,
Unrelated Segments,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tomorrow,
Q65,
the Bar-Kays,
Quando Quango,
Index,
Frankie Knuckles,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
The Music Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Spoonie Gee,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Womack,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.