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 Philippines and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Motions to the punk 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Y Pants,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sällskapet,
Cluster,
Yusef Lateef,
Vainqueur,
UT,
Jesper Dahlback,
Suburban Knight,
ABC,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Harmonia,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ten City,
Hardrive,
Bob Dylan,
Rakim,
Half Japanese,
Dawn Penn,
Index,
Rod Modell,
Eric Dolphy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
Blossom Toes,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Intrusion,
KRS-One,
Kayak,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Doors,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
The Pretty Things,
Pet Shop Boys,
Little Man,
Skarface,
L. Decosne,
Terry Callier,
Derrick May,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sam Rivers,
Schoolly D,
Stetsasonic,
Bill Near,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kaleidoscope,
Niagra,
Flipper,
Ponytail,
Chris Corsano,
the Association,
Toni Rubio,
Anakelly,
Amon Düül II,
The Remains,
The Slackers,
Q and Not U,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.