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 Kiribati and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chris Corsano to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Maurizio,
U.S. Maple,
Skarface,
Dual Sessions,
Con Funk Shun,
Wire,
Minor Threat,
Gang Gang Dance,
Absolute Body Control,
Scratch Acid,
Mandrill,
Slave,
Sällskapet,
The Remains,
The Dirtbombs,
Drexciya,
Kerri Chandler,
8 Eyed Spy,
La Düsseldorf,
Crispy Ambulance,
Laurel Aitken,
Pussy Galore,
Rod Modell,
Lungfish,
Supertramp,
The Monks,
The Buckinghams,
One Last Wish,
Motorama,
Aaron Thompson,
Dennis Brown,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The United States of America,
Icehouse,
Gang of Four,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Last Poets,
Cal Tjader,
John Foxx,
Ken Boothe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harry Pussy,
Joyce Sims,
Wally Richardson,
Siglo XX,
Television Personalities,
The Busters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pole,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Byrd,
Bobbi Humphrey,
10cc,
Depeche Mode,
Procol Harum,
Toni Rubio,
Cheater Slicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Faraquet,
Jeff Mills,
Bang On A Can,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.