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 Papua New Guinea and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Supertramp to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a chamberlin 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 harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Gladiators,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Steve Hackett,
Funky Four + One,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Music Machine,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mojo Men,
Panda Bear,
Dark Day,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scott Walker,
Minutemen,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Halsall,
Duran Duran,
Sixth Finger,
Sandy B,
Dave Gahan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeff Mills,
Porter Ricks,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Star Department,
Trumans Water,
Cameo,
Babytalk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
MDC,
Clear Light,
Todd Rundgren,
Harmonia,
Howard Jones,
Surgeon,
Hardrive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grauzone,
Joey Negro,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Saccharine Trust,
Donald Byrd,
Skriet,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Womack,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soul II Soul,
a-ha,
Flash Fearless,
Heaven 17,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radiohead,
Harry Pussy,
Darondo,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Barracudas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.