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 Gambia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The United States of America to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Jacob Miller,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun Ra,
Animal Collective,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Toasters,
Ken Boothe,
Terry Callier,
Gang of Four,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Moon,
Tommy Roe,
Gong,
Con Funk Shun,
Albert Ayler,
New York Dolls,
The Gories,
Lakeside,
Soft Machine,
The Cure,
The Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacques Brel,
Roxy Music,
Depeche Mode,
Model 500,
Man Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spoonie Gee,
CMW,
The Fuzztones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Invisible,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Derrick May,
The Zeros,
Kas Product,
The Monochrome Set,
Pere Ubu,
Fluxion,
Eddi Front,
Funkadelic,
Mission of Burma,
The Saints,
The Monks,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chris Corsano,
Charles Mingus,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Mills,
Rotary Connection,
Letta Mbulu,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Angels of Light,
Sarah Menescal,
John Holt,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.