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 Armenia and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Lou Reed 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 the Soft Cell to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Bang On A Can,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Walker Brothers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Monks,
The Motions,
Ken Boothe,
Don Cherry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barry Ungar,
DJ Style,
Con Funk Shun,
Khruangbin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Maleditus Sound,
Pussy Galore,
LL Cool J,
Sarah Menescal,
David McCallum,
Fear,
Half Japanese,
Rufus Thomas,
Visage,
Lungfish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
X-Ray Spex,
Grandmaster Flash,
Arab on Radar,
Aloha Tigers,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Carl Craig,
Todd Terry,
The Litter,
Cluster,
David Axelrod,
John Coltrane,
Oblivians,
Index,
48th St. Collective,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sandy B,
Isaac Hayes,
Freddie Wadling,
Grauzone,
Nico,
Swell Maps,
The Fugs,
The Gap Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Malaria!,
The Standells,
Stiv Bators,
Tommy Roe,
Dual Sessions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Electric Prunes,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.