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 Cyprus and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fela Kuti to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Chris & Cosey,
Letta Mbulu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Visage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Saints,
Nils Olav,
Idris Muhammad,
Suburban Knight,
The Litter,
Wally Richardson,
Crooked Eye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bob Dylan,
Zapp,
Gregory Isaacs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tommy Roe,
Sarah Menescal,
Public Image Ltd.,
This Heat,
Niagra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Danielle Patucci,
Con Funk Shun,
The Standells,
X-Ray Spex,
Matthew Halsall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pole,
Shoche,
X-101,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Half Japanese,
Robert Wyatt,
Todd Rundgren,
Animal Collective,
Althea and Donna,
Inner City,
Ice-T,
Gang Green,
Glenn Branca,
R.M.O.,
Cal Tjader,
In Retrospect,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minor Threat,
The Red Krayola,
The Move,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Faraquet,
Warren Ellis,
Khruangbin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arthur Verocai,
The Buckinghams,
Michelle Simonal,
Newcleus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bill Near,
The Tremeloes,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.