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 Germany and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 DJ Style to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deepchord,
48th St. Collective,
The Monks,
Mr. Review,
Sound Behaviour,
The Music Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skarface,
The Knickerbockers,
Fatback Band,
Pantytec,
Swell Maps,
Joey Negro,
Technova,
Vainqueur,
Theoretical Girls,
The Star Department,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Motions,
Tim Buckley,
Donny Hathaway,
Model 500,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Christie,
The Gladiators,
The Last Poets,
Dark Day,
Pole,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lakeside,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radiopuhelimet,
Television,
China Crisis,
Robert Wyatt,
Wire,
Cecil Taylor,
Cybotron,
Howard Jones,
Pierre Henry,
Interpol,
The Offenders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Sherman,
Quando Quango,
Cal Tjader,
The Doobie Brothers,
Henry Cow,
Brand Nubian,
Glenn Branca,
The Five Americans,
Darondo,
MDC,
UT,
Easy Going,
Yusef Lateef,
Ronan,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.