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 Morocco and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Invisible to the jazz 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Angry Samoans,
the Swans,
Animal Collective,
These Immortal Souls,
Shuggie Otis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Warsaw,
Aural Exciters,
John Coltrane,
AZ,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Hill,
Au Pairs,
B.T. Express,
Kurtis Blow,
Nils Olav,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hoover,
Black Moon,
Jeff Mills,
Big Daddy Kane,
New Age Steppers,
The Invisible,
Anthony Braxton,
The Remains,
Marvin Gaye,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Altered Images,
Organ,
Colin Newman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Clarke,
Al Stewart,
Pere Ubu,
China Crisis,
Lalann,
a-ha,
Archie Shepp,
Outsiders,
D'Angelo,
Newcleus,
Goldenarms,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Machine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Reagan Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Charles Mingus,
Scientists,
John Foxx,
The Victims,
Franke,
The Monochrome Set,
Glenn Branca,
Amon Düül II,
Grey Daturas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.