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 Cape Verde and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Duran Duran to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lightning Bolt,
Bob Dylan,
Maleditus Sound,
Nico,
Tubeway Army,
The Remains,
Faust,
Nas,
DNA,
John Holt,
Little Man,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rufus Thomas,
Electric Prunes,
Max Romeo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Con Funk Shun,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Fania All-Stars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Idris Muhammad,
AZ,
Lyres,
Reagan Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jawbox,
Q and Not U,
8 Eyed Spy,
Morten Harket,
The Last Poets,
Gregory Isaacs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fear,
Cluster,
Main Source,
Frankie Knuckles,
Throbbing Gristle,
Matthew Bourne,
Second Layer,
ABC,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Colin Newman,
Donald Byrd,
Jeff Mills,
June of 44,
Das Ding,
Shoche,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Make Up,
Pole,
Franke,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Inner City,
Pere Ubu,
Aaron Thompson,
The J.B.'s,
Schoolly D,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.