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 Maldives and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fania All-Stars to the grime 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Grauzone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Camberwell Now,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Loose Ends,
Alison Limerick,
Joyce Sims,
Black Sheep,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David McCallum,
Mo-Dettes,
Harry Pussy,
Brothers Johnson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sam Rivers,
Stereo Dub,
Mr. Review,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sound Behaviour,
The Durutti Column,
Lebanon Hanover,
Section 25,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wings,
Monks,
Half Japanese,
Amon Düül,
The Pretty Things,
Country Teasers,
Reagan Youth,
The Five Americans,
ABC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Derrick May,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Symarip,
The Gap Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tom Boy,
Black Flag,
The Fortunes,
Scion,
Patti Smith,
The Divine Comedy,
F. McDonald,
Can,
Neu!,
Pantytec,
The Fugs,
The Trojans,
Bill Wells,
The Dead C,
Dennis Brown,
Jawbox,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gladiators,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.