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 Malawi and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin 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 Althea and Donna to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls 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?
Intrusion,
Accadde A,
The Invisible,
China Crisis,
Cheater Slicks,
Oneida,
Matthew Halsall,
The Moody Blues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
A Certain Ratio,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Modern Lovers,
Fad Gadget,
Ultra Naté,
The United States of America,
The Misunderstood,
Panda Bear,
Clear Light,
MC5,
Terry Callier,
Lee Hazlewood,
Los Fastidios,
Banda Bassotti,
Carl Craig,
The Gap Band,
Boredoms,
Arab on Radar,
Sugar Minott,
Ronnie Foster,
Tubeway Army,
Eddi Front,
Laurel Aitken,
Ronan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Vogues,
Boogie Down Productions,
Youth Brigade,
Fela Kuti,
Tommy Roe,
The Trojans,
Todd Terry,
June Days,
Isaac Hayes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Bananas,
Althea and Donna,
John Coltrane,
Qualms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mad Mike,
Erasure,
The Residents,
Barry Ungar,
Inner City,
Roxy Music,
Whodini,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.