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 Brunei and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Michael McDonald 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
The Raincoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Piero Umiliani,
Ossler,
the Human League,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sarah Menescal,
The Kinks,
Magma,
The Fall,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Near,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Inner City,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Andrew Hill,
The Velvet Underground,
Hashim,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Blues Magoos,
the Fania All-Stars,
Qualms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lungfish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sparks,
Derrick May,
Model 500,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Mojo Men,
Fad Gadget,
Surgeon,
Cecil Taylor,
Procol Harum,
Second Layer,
Max Romeo,
Camouflage,
Kaleidoscope,
One Last Wish,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Saints,
The Fugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Litter,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
Bill Wells,
Matthew Halsall,
Angry Samoans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Albert Ayler,
Gang Green,
Severed Heads,
Infiniti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Magazine,
Clear Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.