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 Lebanon and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Marmalade,
The Slits,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sällskapet,
Cal Tjader,
Supertramp,
the Germs,
Yaz,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Bourne,
Lyres,
Sex Pistols,
James Chance & The Contortions,
T.S.O.L.,
The Standells,
The Misunderstood,
The Techniques,
Graham Central Station,
Thompson Twins,
The Saints,
Arab on Radar,
Scratch Acid,
Subhumans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gories,
Tommy Roe,
Robert Hood,
Mission of Burma,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bluetip,
Stetsasonic,
Minnie Riperton,
Gregory Isaacs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Invisible,
Kaleidoscope,
Mary Jane Girls,
Magazine,
The Fugs,
Mandrill,
Piero Umiliani,
Roger Hodgson,
Quantec,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
Groovy Waters,
Half Japanese,
FM Einheit,
Harmonia,
Ultravox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Todd Rundgren,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fortunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
The Mojo Men,
Organ,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.