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 Botswana and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Moss Icon to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Almond,
Theoretical Girls,
The Zeros,
Deepchord,
Mandrill,
EPMD,
Anthony Braxton,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Invisible,
Clear Light,
The Kinks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare,
Tears for Fears,
The Offenders,
The Raincoats,
Echospace,
Bobby Womack,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Erykah Badu,
Bill Near,
The Barracudas,
Jacques Brel,
Popol Vuh,
The Slits,
Man Parrish,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fall,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Skatalites,
the Normal,
a-ha,
The Beau Brummels,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
Guru Guru,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
The Dirtbombs,
Mr. Review,
Hasil Adkins,
Dawn Penn,
Marvin Gaye,
Gong,
Pantytec,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Black Dice,
Arcadia,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mark Hollis,
Mad Mike,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eli Mardock,
The Seeds,
Tommy Roe,
Sun City Girls,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.