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 Montenegro and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar 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 Cecil Taylor to the funk 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Sonics,
The Monks,
Symarip,
the Slits,
Television,
Eric B and Rakim,
Juan Atkins,
Idris Muhammad,
The Birthday Party,
Q and Not U,
Grey Daturas,
Saccharine Trust,
The Velvet Underground,
Wings,
Suicide,
cv313,
The Trojans,
Bobby Womack,
Boz Scaggs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sister Nancy,
Deakin,
Pierre Henry,
Gang of Four,
Charles Mingus,
The Moleskins,
Lungfish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aaron Thompson,
Hot Snakes,
The Gap Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Kenny Larkin,
Unrelated Segments,
Sixth Finger,
Althea and Donna,
Hoover,
The Barracudas,
Zero Boys,
Drexciya,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scratch Acid,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Andrew Hill,
Kevin Saunderson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Malaria!,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hasil Adkins,
Qualms,
Jawbox,
The Fuzztones,
June of 44,
Surgeon,
The Smoke,
Main Source,
Stetsasonic,
Radiopuhelimet,
Piero Umiliani,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.