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 Cuba and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 MC5 to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Anthony Braxton,
CMW,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nas,
Q65,
Scrapy,
Eric Dolphy,
The Divine Comedy,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Mummies,
The Evens,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fugs,
Simply Red,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Freddie Wadling,
cv313,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rod Modell,
Depeche Mode,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Unwound,
Agent Orange,
Altered Images,
The Tremeloes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Little Man,
Amon Düül II,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Terrestrial Tones,
Robert Görl,
Alison Limerick,
the Bar-Kays,
Junior Murvin,
Steve Hackett,
Donald Byrd,
Brass Construction,
Lou Christie,
Monolake,
The Residents,
Theoretical Girls,
Average White Band,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Starr,
Joey Negro,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mr. Review,
Cal Tjader,
The Fortunes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pagans,
Lucky Dragons,
Cameo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jacques Brel,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.