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 Hungary and from Bremen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 Porter Ricks to the punk 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
The Techniques,
Bush Tetras,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bill Wells,
The Wake,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cure,
The Last Poets,
Barbara Tucker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minutemen,
Altered Images,
Arthur Verocai,
Althea and Donna,
The Mummies,
Brand Nubian,
The Stooges,
Television Personalities,
Donny Hathaway,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rapeman,
Sun City Girls,
The Leaves,
Freddie Wadling,
Essential Logic,
Sun Ra,
Jacob Miller,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Faraquet,
Monolake,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tears for Fears,
FM Einheit,
The New Christs,
KRS-One,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Infiniti,
Pierre Henry,
Juan Atkins,
The Modern Lovers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Charles Mingus,
The Selecter,
This Heat,
Joe Finger,
Agent Orange,
Soul Sonic Force,
Faust,
Television,
Neu!,
Moebius,
Derrick Morgan,
the Human League,
The Dirtbombs,
a-ha,
Malaria!,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.