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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pylon,
Bootsy Collins,
Soulsonic Force,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Magma,
Warsaw,
Crash Course in Science,
Bob Dylan,
Eddi Front,
Rufus Thomas,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fugs,
MC5,
Accadde A,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Germs,
Don Cherry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brand Nubian,
The Blackbyrds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
PIL,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Parry Music,
Harry Pussy,
The Dead C,
David Bowie,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dave Clark Five,
Chris Corsano,
The Litter,
Roger Hodgson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Guru Guru,
Suburban Knight,
Mars,
Eli Mardock,
Supertramp,
Wire,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Womack,
Drexciya,
Tom Boy,
X-102,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Skarface,
Mandrill,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bush Tetras,
Angry Samoans,
Vladislav Delay,
Aswad,
Davy DMX,
Big Daddy Kane,
Moebius,
John Coltrane,
Terry Callier,
Erykah Badu,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.