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 Argentina and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 D'Angelo to the funk 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Quadrant,
Andrew Hill,
Man Parrish,
The United States of America,
Television,
Shuggie Otis,
Panda Bear,
Gang Starr,
The Detroit Cobras,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultra Naté,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Chris & Cosey,
Camouflage,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cameo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Trojans,
Clear Light,
Stockholm Monsters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wire,
Technova,
PIL,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Soft Cell,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deepchord,
Ornette Coleman,
Can,
Marc Almond,
Oneida,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cybotron,
Robert Hood,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
Peter and Kerry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gap Band,
Brick,
Negative Approach,
Hashim,
Loose Ends,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smoke,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Move,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stiv Bators,
Television Personalities,
Average White Band,
Pole,
Blake Baxter,
The Residents,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.