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 Swaziland and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb 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 KRS-One to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
The Motions,
The Standells,
Sugar Minott,
A Certain Ratio,
Sandy B,
Matthew Halsall,
David Axelrod,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerrie Biddell,
Reagan Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Andrew Hill,
Bush Tetras,
Chris Corsano,
Pantytec,
Ice-T,
Black Bananas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Procol Harum,
Index,
Terrestrial Tones,
Spandau Ballet,
Aloha Tigers,
Ronnie Foster,
Electric Prunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Anakelly,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Moon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Monks,
Intrusion,
Swell Maps,
U.S. Maple,
Moby Grape,
DJ Style,
Hashim,
Deepchord,
Q and Not U,
Pantaleimon,
The Blackbyrds,
The Names,
Gichy Dan,
Jacques Brel,
Agitation Free,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fatback Band,
Television,
Crooked Eye,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultimate Spinach,
Slick Rick,
the Slits,
Marmalade,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thompson Twins,
The Birthday Party,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.