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 Africa and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the rap 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Das Ding,
Fad Gadget,
Anakelly,
Deakin,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
These Immortal Souls,
Saccharine Trust,
Lee Hazlewood,
Don Cherry,
Pantaleimon,
Warren Ellis,
Maleditus Sound,
Terry Callier,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dennis Brown,
a-ha,
Ponytail,
Harry Pussy,
The Cowsills,
Soul II Soul,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Little Man,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Yaz,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The J.B.'s,
Quando Quango,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minny Pops,
Scott Walker,
The Flesh Eaters,
Basic Channel,
The Barracudas,
Drexciya,
Kool Moe Dee,
David Bowie,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Litter,
Spoonie Gee,
Brothers Johnson,
Amon Düül II,
Kurtis Blow,
Tomorrow,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter & Gordon,
The Cure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric Copeland,
Vladislav Delay,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Misunderstood,
Oblivians,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Accadde A,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kaleidoscope,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.