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 Cyprus and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Monks to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Deadbeat,
Sister Nancy,
Connie Case,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cramps,
Kas Product,
Don Cherry,
Junior Murvin,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
Zapp,
Mr. Review,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dennis Brown,
Second Layer,
The Golliwogs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Kinks,
The Divine Comedy,
Howard Jones,
X-Ray Spex,
Iggy Pop,
Angry Samoans,
Suicide,
Eli Mardock,
Unwound,
Can,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Suburban Knight,
U.S. Maple,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cameo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reagan Youth,
The Electric Prunes,
Goldenarms,
Pole,
Nils Olav,
The Star Department,
Popol Vuh,
The Gun Club,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Motorama,
The Associates,
Eve St. Jones,
Pussy Galore,
Agitation Free,
Kurtis Blow,
Gastr Del Sol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jacques Brel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ponytail,
Mantronix,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Urselle,
Brand Nubian,
The Seeds,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.