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 Oman and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Soulsonic Force to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Quando Quango,
Schoolly D,
Vladislav Delay,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Connie Case,
Los Fastidios,
Lalann,
Essential Logic,
Guru Guru,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nirvana,
T.S.O.L.,
Desert Stars,
KRS-One,
Cymande,
Mary Jane Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
K-Klass,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Holt,
Anthony Braxton,
Harmonia,
Girls At Our Best!,
U.S. Maple,
Tom Boy,
Eden Ahbez,
Reagan Youth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Christie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Moss Icon,
The Moleskins,
Depeche Mode,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
Deakin,
The Saints,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hashim,
Chrome,
The Electric Prunes,
Dead Boys,
Ohio Players,
Masters at Work,
Liliput,
Ten City,
Pantaleimon,
Black Pus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Motorama,
X-101,
Y Pants,
Ronan,
The Buckinghams,
The Mummies,
Roxy Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kurtis Blow,
The Index,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.