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 Uzbekistan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Hot Snakes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
New Order,
Mission of Burma,
Blake Baxter,
Skriet,
the Association,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soul II Soul,
Pantytec,
Sixth Finger,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gap Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Maurizio,
Ohio Players,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Procol Harum,
Babytalk,
Barry Ungar,
La Düsseldorf,
Shoche,
Blossom Toes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Smoke,
Iggy Pop,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rakim,
The Mummies,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lungfish,
Hasil Adkins,
Rufus Thomas,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
FM Einheit,
Wally Richardson,
Banda Bassotti,
Lindisfarne,
Deadbeat,
Symarip,
8 Eyed Spy,
T. Rex,
JFA,
Warren Ellis,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Remains,
Bob Dylan,
Aaron Thompson,
Popol Vuh,
MDC,
Judy Mowatt,
Max Romeo,
Saccharine Trust,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yazoo,
Marine Girls,
Soft Machine,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.