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 Barbados and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Steve Hackett,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Eddi Front,
Motorama,
Bobby Womack,
Country Teasers,
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Accadde A,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Arthur Verocai,
Alice Coltrane,
Minutemen,
Bluetip,
Flipper,
R.M.O.,
Delta 5,
Von Mondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Foxx,
The Moody Blues,
Blancmange,
The J.B.'s,
B.T. Express,
the Bar-Kays,
Amazonics,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dark Day,
Glenn Branca,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Prince Buster,
Freddie Wadling,
Judy Mowatt,
The Barracudas,
Pulsallama,
Sixth Finger,
Ornette Coleman,
EPMD,
Jandek,
Roxy Music,
Al Stewart,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Alarm Clocks,
These Immortal Souls,
Neu!,
Amon Düül,
Quando Quango,
Danielle Patucci,
Unwound,
The Saints,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Sneak,
Intrusion,
The Skatalites,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.