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 Antigua and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Funkadelic to the rap 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Golliwogs,
Livin' Joy,
Television Personalities,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Parrish,
Ronan,
Procol Harum,
The Move,
Swans,
Popol Vuh,
Can,
Susan Cadogan,
Accadde A,
Derrick Morgan,
Trumans Water,
Ten City,
Byron Stingily,
Minny Pops,
Grandmaster Flash,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Wells,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crooked Eye,
Unwound,
Jeff Mills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barrington Levy,
The Birthday Party,
Sun City Girls,
Don Cherry,
Camberwell Now,
DNA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Terry Callier,
Heaven 17,
Yazoo,
Surgeon,
Ludus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Saccharine Trust,
Janne Schatter,
Letta Mbulu,
The Moody Blues,
Roxette,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Reagan Youth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Thompson Twins,
Underground Resistance,
Jandek,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Massinfluence,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.