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 El Salvador and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb 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 Johnny Osbourne to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oneida,
The Black Dice,
Dark Day,
Panda Bear,
The Move,
Eric B and Rakim,
Livin' Joy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Flag,
Visage,
The Electric Prunes,
Pierre Henry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Easy Going,
Erykah Badu,
Thompson Twins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Graham Central Station,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rosa Yemen,
Chrome,
Swell Maps,
Spoonie Gee,
Rod Modell,
Charles Mingus,
John Lydon,
The New Christs,
Lower 48,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare,
The Techniques,
DJ Style,
AZ,
F. McDonald,
The Dead C,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang Starr,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tom Boy,
The Moody Blues,
the Swans,
Aswad,
Don Cherry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bad Manners,
David Axelrod,
Basic Channel,
Altered Images,
Clear Light,
LL Cool J,
John Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
Funky Four + One,
China Crisis,
The Stooges,
Liliput,
Scott Walker,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.