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 Azerbaijan and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 Radio Birdman to the rock 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Patti Smith,
Pole,
Pantaleimon,
AZ,
Television Personalities,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Judy Mowatt,
Qualms,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Residents,
K-Klass,
The Mummies,
the Germs,
Bad Manners,
Lou Christie,
Groovy Waters,
The Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Rotary Connection,
Sexual Harrassment,
L. Decosne,
Derrick Morgan,
Tommy Roe,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeff Lynne,
Charles Mingus,
Soulsonic Force,
The Standells,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Stooges,
Whodini,
Gabor Szabo,
Bill Wells,
Excepter,
Funky Four + One,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Sheep,
Tubeway Army,
Average White Band,
Japan,
Sarah Menescal,
Model 500,
the Sonics,
Technova,
Lightning Bolt,
Buzzcocks,
The Techniques,
Cheater Slicks,
Cluster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Robert Görl,
FM Einheit,
The Black Dice,
The Moleskins,
Boz Scaggs,
Severed Heads,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.