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 Burkina and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 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 DJ Sneak to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Pole,
the Bar-Kays,
Oneida,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Y Pants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scott Walker,
Man Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultravox,
Lindisfarne,
Pussy Galore,
Qualms,
The Toasters,
OOIOO,
Brothers Johnson,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare,
The Angels of Light,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Unrelated Segments,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Saints,
The Blackbyrds,
Quadrant,
Rod Modell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fortunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magazine,
Rosa Yemen,
Bluetip,
Kool Moe Dee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Techniques,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Das Ding,
Nils Olav,
The Gladiators,
The Skatalites,
Hasil Adkins,
Faust,
Pylon,
Howard Jones,
Mr. Review,
Marine Girls,
Jeff Lynne,
The Standells,
Organ,
The Residents,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
AZ,
The Young Rascals,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang of Four,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reagan Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
Charles Mingus,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.