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 Tunisia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 Crispian St. Peters 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW 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?
Pagans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Isaac Hayes,
The Searchers,
The Sound,
Robert Hood,
Animal Collective,
The American Breed,
The Names,
The Five Americans,
Qualms,
New York Dolls,
The Associates,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fire Engines,
Donald Byrd,
Zapp,
Ultra Naté,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
R.M.O.,
The Saints,
Infiniti,
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
Q and Not U,
The Pop Group,
Curtis Mayfield,
Absolute Body Control,
the Soft Cell,
Suicide,
The United States of America,
Morten Harket,
The Modern Lovers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lucky Dragons,
Donny Hathaway,
Bluetip,
Sonny Sharrock,
Colin Newman,
Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
The Mummies,
The Gories,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Malaria!,
Bill Wells,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neu!,
Livin' Joy,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Pus,
Prince Buster,
Ohio Players,
The Seeds,
Albert Ayler,
UT,
Eurythmics,
Robert Wyatt,
Danielle Patucci,
the Bar-Kays,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.