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 Namibia and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Skarface to the jazz 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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
10cc,
the Association,
AZ,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eddi Front,
Tomorrow,
The Tremeloes,
Cecil Taylor,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moleskins,
Suburban Knight,
Dorothy Ashby,
Excepter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cybotron,
La Düsseldorf,
The Skatalites,
Blossom Toes,
K-Klass,
Pantaleimon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Suicide,
48th St. Collective,
Wasted Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bad Manners,
The Star Department,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barrington Levy,
The Modern Lovers,
Susan Cadogan,
Siglo XX,
The Residents,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pantytec,
Infiniti,
The Last Poets,
The Pretty Things,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Shadows of Knight,
Aloha Tigers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eve St. Jones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Michelle Simonal,
Scrapy,
Sarah Menescal,
Jacob Miller,
Animal Collective,
Ronan,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fire Engines,
Juan Atkins,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Wake,
JFA,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.