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 San Marino and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Graham Central Station to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Qualms,
Skriet,
Cymande,
Skaos,
Amon Düül II,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Moon,
The Gun Club,
Hashim,
New Order,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Erasure,
Parry Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boredoms,
Leonard Cohen,
The Last Poets,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Offenders,
Archie Shepp,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masters at Work,
Kaleidoscope,
Agent Orange,
Pantytec,
Dual Sessions,
Byron Stingily,
Can,
Inner City,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Moss Icon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
EPMD,
a-ha,
World's Most,
Youth Brigade,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pere Ubu,
Blake Baxter,
Franke,
Dead Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
The Divine Comedy,
Wasted Youth,
The Trojans,
Popol Vuh,
Kerri Chandler,
Agitation Free,
cv313,
A Certain Ratio,
Ken Boothe,
Adolescents,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.