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 Uganda and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the jazz 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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Fat Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barrington Levy,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Bananas,
Neu!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siglo XX,
Graham Central Station,
Half Japanese,
Kerrie Biddell,
Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
Sonny Sharrock,
The J.B.'s,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Tres Demented,
Ronnie Foster,
Kurtis Blow,
Con Funk Shun,
Depeche Mode,
Khruangbin,
Susan Cadogan,
Young Marble Giants,
Howard Jones,
Carl Craig,
Erykah Badu,
The Searchers,
Ossler,
Alton Ellis,
Stetsasonic,
Brothers Johnson,
Marine Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
Basic Channel,
Lou Christie,
Barbara Tucker,
The Names,
The Fugs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Slick Rick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arthur Verocai,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Womack,
E-Dancer,
Smog,
Terry Callier,
The Kinks,
The Last Poets,
Kenny Larkin,
Sound Behaviour,
Maurizio,
The Fall,
Kayak,
The Residents,
Crime,
Clear Light,
Lalann,
John Foxx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.