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 Micronesia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rites of Spring to the crunk 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
The Doors,
Patti Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Hood,
Gang of Four,
Can,
The Last Poets,
The Motions,
Main Source,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blossom Toes,
Soulsonic Force,
Lungfish,
Anakelly,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Donny Hathaway,
Simply Red,
Hoover,
Magazine,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cramps,
Godley & Creme,
The Star Department,
Dave Gahan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Swans,
Graham Central Station,
Radio Birdman,
Sun City Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Minnie Riperton,
Idris Muhammad,
Quadrant,
Yaz,
Yazoo,
the Soft Cell,
Terrestrial Tones,
Negative Approach,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oneida,
Roy Ayers,
Wasted Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Japan,
Hardrive,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cameo,
The Zeros,
Junior Murvin,
Joe Smooth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.