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 Turkey and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 Pussy Galore to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Nation of Ulysses,
Silicon Teens,
Fat Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hardrive,
Animal Collective,
Wings,
Shuggie Otis,
Rites of Spring,
Zero Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Names,
Mo-Dettes,
Funkadelic,
Rekid,
Reagan Youth,
Talk Talk,
Lucky Dragons,
Interpol,
Hoover,
June of 44,
Anakelly,
Man Parrish,
Crime,
Bill Wells,
Gastr Del Sol,
Drexciya,
Al Stewart,
Lebanon Hanover,
Frankie Knuckles,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cecil Taylor,
The Black Dice,
Terry Callier,
Malaria!,
Michelle Simonal,
Patti Smith,
The Gun Club,
Gabor Szabo,
Robert Hood,
John Holt,
Simply Red,
The Walker Brothers,
Joe Smooth,
The Standells,
Barrington Levy,
Visage,
Connie Case,
Althea and Donna,
Nick Fraelich,
Agent Orange,
Harpers Bizarre,
F. McDonald,
Godley & Creme,
Sun Ra,
Soulsonic Force,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pantytec,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.