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 Uganda and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers,
Quantec,
One Last Wish,
Cheater Slicks,
Jeff Mills,
Eve St. Jones,
LL Cool J,
Moebius,
Pylon,
Black Moon,
Rod Modell,
Rosa Yemen,
Ornette Coleman,
Drexciya,
Sandy B,
China Crisis,
Archie Shepp,
The Last Poets,
Masters at Work,
DJ Style,
Minor Threat,
Silicon Teens,
Newcleus,
Franke,
Visage,
The Zeros,
Howard Jones,
Tommy Roe,
Todd Rundgren,
Livin' Joy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jawbox,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fad Gadget,
The Litter,
David McCallum,
Blossom Toes,
Massinfluence,
Scrapy,
Make Up,
Groovy Waters,
Kas Product,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
MDC,
Harry Pussy,
Saccharine Trust,
Marine Girls,
Monks,
The Searchers,
FM Einheit,
Liliput,
The Count Five,
New Age Steppers,
Heaven 17,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.