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 Venezuela and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Sherman to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hasil Adkins,
Nils Olav,
Marcia Griffiths,
D'Angelo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bronski Beat,
Graham Central Station,
The Litter,
Janne Schatter,
AZ,
Smog,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Jacques Brel,
Cheater Slicks,
Tres Demented,
Los Fastidios,
Marvin Gaye,
Bluetip,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pharoah Sanders,
Quantec,
Harry Pussy,
Clear Light,
Shoche,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lungfish,
Bill Near,
Excepter,
Mission of Burma,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kaleidoscope,
Malaria!,
Camouflage,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Birthday Party,
Grauzone,
June of 44,
Tomorrow,
Johnny Clarke,
The Vogues,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Grass Roots,
Rites of Spring,
Pere Ubu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Susan Cadogan,
Magma,
The Invisible,
Chris & Cosey,
The Count Five,
Jeff Lynne,
Cybotron,
Matthew Bourne,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.