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 Korea North and from Manchester.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
The Selecter,
Subhumans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
Eddi Front,
Fat Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
Roy Ayers,
Peter and Kerry,
Davy DMX,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wolf Eyes,
Absolute Body Control,
Crash Course in Science,
The Wake,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Dorothy Ashby,
T.S.O.L.,
Minny Pops,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Neu!,
Ponytail,
Adolescents,
UT,
Gang of Four,
Lucky Dragons,
Surgeon,
Lower 48,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aaron Thompson,
Aswad,
Prince Buster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Accadde A,
China Crisis,
Lyres,
Schoolly D,
the Bar-Kays,
A Certain Ratio,
Rites of Spring,
Al Stewart,
The American Breed,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fuzztones,
Rod Modell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sugar Minott,
Nirvana,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Radio Birdman,
Desert Stars,
Roxy Music,
Mantronix,
The Saints,
Darondo,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.