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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bill Wells to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
The Residents,
Cybotron,
Babytalk,
Archie Shepp,
the Germs,
AZ,
Neil Young,
Alphaville,
Suicide,
The Sonics,
Soulsonic Force,
Davy DMX,
Bill Wells,
Kenny Larkin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stetsasonic,
Surgeon,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Evens,
Niagra,
Shuggie Otis,
Connie Case,
Stiv Bators,
Ohio Players,
Danielle Patucci,
Mandrill,
Clear Light,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fortunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Techniques,
Minnie Riperton,
Tim Buckley,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pagans,
E-Dancer,
New Age Steppers,
Charles Mingus,
Severed Heads,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eric Dolphy,
Bauhaus,
Symarip,
Fad Gadget,
Vainqueur,
Faust,
The Music Machine,
Grey Daturas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Buckinghams,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.