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 Tanzania and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer 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 Slackers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
The Martian,
The Doors,
Hot Snakes,
The Leaves,
Ohio Players,
Girls At Our Best!,
LL Cool J,
Peter & Gordon,
Clear Light,
Crime,
Godley & Creme,
Radiopuhelimet,
Donny Hathaway,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Silicon Teens,
Television,
Laurel Aitken,
Al Stewart,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
ABC,
Pantaleimon,
Aswad,
Los Fastidios,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tom Boy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Skaos,
The Seeds,
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
Crash Course in Science,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wasted Youth,
Pere Ubu,
L. Decosne,
Anakelly,
Ice-T,
Morten Harket,
R.M.O.,
Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camberwell Now,
Roxette,
the Swans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deakin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scan 7,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alison Limerick,
Faraquet,
Section 25,
EPMD,
Glenn Branca,
The Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.