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 Estonia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cluster to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Bob Dylan,
Funkadelic,
Marine Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Chris Corsano,
Qualms,
Bang On A Can,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sonics,
The Real Kids,
Symarip,
The Golliwogs,
Metal Thangz,
Infiniti,
Jeru the Damaja,
Aswad,
JFA,
Donald Byrd,
Steve Hackett,
Quantec,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Hill,
The Dave Clark Five,
Yazoo,
Bronski Beat,
Boredoms,
Ronan,
X-Ray Spex,
Magazine,
Jacob Miller,
Sonic Youth,
Black Pus,
The Motions,
Half Japanese,
The Seeds,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hoover,
The Gories,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Agent Orange,
Severed Heads,
Stiv Bators,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Maleditus Sound,
MDC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Buzzcocks,
Derrick May,
Ice-T,
The Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Foxx,
Yaz,
The Invisible,
The Slits,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.