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 Moldova and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Harry Pussy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roger Hodgson,
Wings,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Five Americans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Andrew Hill,
Letta Mbulu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dual Sessions,
The New Christs,
Electric Prunes,
The Blackbyrds,
Procol Harum,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
ABC,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aaron Thompson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Moody Blues,
F. McDonald,
Lungfish,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
B.T. Express,
the Normal,
Babytalk,
This Heat,
The Moleskins,
June of 44,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Spoonie Gee,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joyce Sims,
Rufus Thomas,
Michelle Simonal,
Rites of Spring,
Scott Walker,
Heaven 17,
Juan Atkins,
Ronan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Aloha Tigers,
MDC,
Oblivians,
Silicon Teens,
The Martian,
Funky Four + One,
X-101,
Chris & Cosey,
Tres Demented,
Black Flag,
Panda Bear,
CMW,
The Beau Brummels,
FM Einheit,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skarface,
Ten City,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.