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 Laos and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Scrapy to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Brand Nubian,
Mo-Dettes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Qualms,
the Association,
Crash Course in Science,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kaleidoscope,
The Offenders,
The Music Machine,
F. McDonald,
Maurizio,
Rekid,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Index,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fat Boys,
John Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
Dual Sessions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Bananas,
Monks,
The Kinks,
Mr. Review,
Colin Newman,
The Techniques,
The Evens,
The Skatalites,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lower 48,
The Smoke,
Monolake,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ken Boothe,
Soft Machine,
Funkadelic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Delon & Dalcan,
Blossom Toes,
Joe Finger,
Man Parrish,
Gabor Szabo,
Absolute Body Control,
Ossler,
Sexual Harrassment,
Goldenarms,
Visage,
New Age Steppers,
Swans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Victims,
Stiv Bators,
the Slits,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Das Ding,
Dawn Penn,
Cecil Taylor,
Hashim,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.