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 Germany and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Dorothy Ashby to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
The American Breed,
Ornette Coleman,
Camouflage,
The Victims,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Jeff Mills,
Lakeside,
Deakin,
Fugazi,
Cluster,
Sandy B,
Bobby Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Blake Baxter,
Ossler,
Roxy Music,
Robert Görl,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
EPMD,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Carl Craig,
Sex Pistols,
Moss Icon,
Howard Jones,
Marc Almond,
Eli Mardock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lalo Schifrin,
B.T. Express,
Brass Construction,
Crash Course in Science,
Vladislav Delay,
The Blackbyrds,
The Skatalites,
The Electric Prunes,
Neu!,
Todd Rundgren,
Radio Birdman,
Janne Schatter,
Freddie Wadling,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alice Coltrane,
The Names,
The Modern Lovers,
Drexciya,
The Gladiators,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fortunes,
The Real Kids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Organ,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.