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 Algeria and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 rhodes 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 Ohio Players to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Eric Dolphy,
The Count Five,
Terry Callier,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
10cc,
Bronski Beat,
Soul II Soul,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ponytail,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The American Breed,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Susan Cadogan,
Organ,
Dark Day,
Oblivians,
Anthony Braxton,
La Düsseldorf,
Hot Snakes,
Maleditus Sound,
Josef K,
Swans,
Country Teasers,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Neu!,
KRS-One,
Altered Images,
Alton Ellis,
The Move,
Agent Orange,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Masters at Work,
Electric Prunes,
ABBA,
The Fortunes,
AZ,
The Pop Group,
The Happenings,
The Dave Clark Five,
Yellowson,
Pussy Galore,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cure,
Brass Construction,
The Barracudas,
Steve Hackett,
The Last Poets,
Symarip,
Tubeway Army,
Matthew Halsall,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sexual Harrassment,
Television Personalities,
Cybotron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sight & Sound,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.