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 Belarus and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Franke,
Kool Moe Dee,
10cc,
Rufus Thomas,
Cybotron,
Theoretical Girls,
The Leaves,
The New Christs,
Black Moon,
Amazonics,
Los Fastidios,
Rotary Connection,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang of Four,
Nas,
Boredoms,
Mr. Review,
Lightning Bolt,
Arab on Radar,
Fatback Band,
Ice-T,
Bobby Sherman,
Stetsasonic,
the Soft Cell,
Liliput,
Pantytec,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aswad,
David McCallum,
Malaria!,
The Black Dice,
Country Teasers,
Roxette,
Minutemen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Residents,
Kaleidoscope,
Parry Music,
Gang Starr,
D'Angelo,
Sonic Youth,
Jeff Mills,
The Fall,
Bob Dylan,
The Smoke,
Skaos,
Agitation Free,
The Pop Group,
Archie Shepp,
Prince Buster,
Bill Near,
Kerri Chandler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tim Buckley,
Erykah Badu,
John Foxx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Invisible,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.