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 Dominica and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 theremin 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 Roy Ayers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Eurythmics,
Fear,
Au Pairs,
Black Pus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Swans,
Blake Baxter,
T. Rex,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Reuben Wilson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Idris Muhammad,
Unwound,
Rekid,
Suicide,
Derrick May,
Animal Collective,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Curtis Mayfield,
Godley & Creme,
Jerry's Kids,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Pretty Things,
Cal Tjader,
Andrew Hill,
The J.B.'s,
The Saints,
David McCallum,
Lyres,
Carl Craig,
Jeff Lynne,
the Human League,
Pylon,
Rufus Thomas,
Pagans,
The Invisible,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yusef Lateef,
Prince Buster,
John Cale,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hasil Adkins,
Hardrive,
Scion,
Marmalade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joe Smooth,
The Moody Blues,
Deepchord,
The Techniques,
Index,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Arthur Verocai,
The Slackers,
John Holt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Television,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.