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 France 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the techno 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Smog,
The Fire Engines,
Talk Talk,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Teasers,
Das Ding,
Blossom Toes,
Maleditus Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
Zapp,
Skaos,
The Moleskins,
Sixth Finger,
Tubeway Army,
The Martian,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Vainqueur,
Banda Bassotti,
the Bar-Kays,
ABC,
The Victims,
Tears for Fears,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eden Ahbez,
Yaz,
Marc Almond,
Slick Rick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Colin Newman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sound,
R.M.O.,
Pussy Galore,
Eric Dolphy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Vladislav Delay,
Tomorrow,
The Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Groovy Waters,
Steve Hackett,
Flamin' Groovies,
Thompson Twins,
Max Romeo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barry Ungar,
Anakelly,
Bauhaus,
Adolescents,
Brick,
Essential Logic,
Barbara Tucker,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cameo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joyce Sims,
Newcleus,
Fela Kuti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.