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 Gabon and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Spandau Ballet to the grunge 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Model 500,
Sixth Finger,
Suburban Knight,
Newcleus,
The Slits,
The Smoke,
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
Alton Ellis,
Ohio Players,
The Leaves,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Unrelated Segments,
Yaz,
Erykah Badu,
The Motions,
Scientists,
Second Layer,
Faust,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jawbox,
E-Dancer,
Warren Ellis,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Delta 5,
Deadbeat,
Moss Icon,
Rod Modell,
T. Rex,
Marvin Gaye,
Make Up,
Depeche Mode,
The Fall,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
AZ,
Bang On A Can,
Severed Heads,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Mojo Men,
Dawn Penn,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultra Naté,
Dead Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rekid,
The Invisible,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
Cymande,
Bootsy Collins,
DJ Sneak,
The Real Kids,
the Association,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Christie,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.