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 Bahamas and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bremen.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Fuzztones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
The Names,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
the Soft Cell,
Nik Kershaw,
Erykah Badu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spandau Ballet,
Kenny Larkin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Angry Samoans,
Jacob Miller,
Trumans Water,
Aswad,
Hasil Adkins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Holt,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marshall Jefferson,
UT,
Duran Duran,
Rufus Thomas,
Animal Collective,
Inner City,
Jeff Mills,
The Remains,
The Move,
Vladislav Delay,
DJ Sneak,
Neil Young,
World's Most,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moby Grape,
Slave,
DJ Style,
The Happenings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Trojans,
Sandy B,
Josef K,
Qualms,
Piero Umiliani,
Girls At Our Best!,
Boredoms,
The Beau Brummels,
Joyce Sims,
Buzzcocks,
Grauzone,
Rapeman,
Ludus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Smog,
Surgeon,
Dawn Penn,
Wasted Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Desert Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Smoke,
Mantronix,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.