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 Uzbekistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
The Angels of Light,
Franke,
48th St. Collective,
The Index,
Andrew Hill,
Derrick Morgan,
The Divine Comedy,
June of 44,
Nirvana,
Loose Ends,
Eden Ahbez,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalann,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Newcleus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Oblivians,
The Motions,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brand Nubian,
The Velvet Underground,
Saccharine Trust,
The Kinks,
Public Enemy,
Cameo,
Sun City Girls,
Eric Dolphy,
cv313,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Womack,
Colin Newman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wasted Youth,
Idris Muhammad,
Parry Music,
Fugazi,
Simply Red,
Junior Murvin,
Sound Behaviour,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Robert Hood,
Ornette Coleman,
Essential Logic,
the Normal,
Von Mondo,
Metal Thangz,
Byron Stingily,
Grey Daturas,
Black Moon,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Tremeloes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ohio Players,
Massinfluence,
Easy Going,
Surgeon,
The Standells,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.