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 Albania and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet 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 Monochrome Set to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Zeros,
Qualms,
Pussy Galore,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mantronix,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Visage,
Dennis Brown,
Andrew Hill,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker,
Dark Day,
Cluster,
Amon Düül,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Inner City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Todd Rundgren,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fortunes,
Suicide,
Model 500,
Harry Pussy,
The Offenders,
Roger Hodgson,
Quadrant,
The Shadows of Knight,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dawn Penn,
Susan Cadogan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
OOIOO,
Lakeside,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soul Sonic Force,
Anakelly,
Ronan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
Funky Four + One,
Symarip,
Unwound,
The Kinks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Talk Talk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
June of 44,
Frankie Knuckles,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fuzztones,
Quando Quango,
David McCallum,
Siglo XX,
John Foxx,
Ronnie Foster,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.