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 St Lucia and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Kevin Saunderson to the techno 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Byrd,
The Pop Group,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vladislav Delay,
Charles Mingus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Erykah Badu,
Kaleidoscope,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Susan Cadogan,
Marvin Gaye,
Urselle,
Dennis Brown,
Joyce Sims,
Pere Ubu,
June Days,
Gabor Szabo,
Blake Baxter,
Loose Ends,
Radio Birdman,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Remains,
Metal Thangz,
Excepter,
Joey Negro,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hasil Adkins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Matthew Bourne,
Sandy B,
Wasted Youth,
Lower 48,
Magazine,
The Barracudas,
Bill Near,
Fatback Band,
Icehouse,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sound Behaviour,
Oneida,
Saccharine Trust,
Hashim,
Neu!,
Sun Ra,
Agent Orange,
Cameo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
MDC,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roxy Music,
Alton Ellis,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.