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 Eritrea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Pantytec,
The Monochrome Set,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fall,
Ornette Coleman,
Scan 7,
Gong,
Motorama,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cluster,
Glambeats Corp.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Massinfluence,
ABC,
Pylon,
Guru Guru,
Tres Demented,
The Buckinghams,
Procol Harum,
Barbara Tucker,
Danielle Patucci,
Todd Rundgren,
Franke,
The Tremeloes,
Junior Murvin,
Mandrill,
Dennis Brown,
Little Man,
Jeff Lynne,
The Divine Comedy,
Tubeway Army,
H. Thieme,
Moebius,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Chrome,
Roxy Music,
F. McDonald,
Index,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oblivians,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minutemen,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Slits,
Main Source,
Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Sonic Youth,
The Toasters,
Bobby Sherman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bootsy Collins,
Jacob Miller,
Tears for Fears,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
A Certain Ratio,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.