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 Indonesia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Tom Boy,
The Five Americans,
Blake Baxter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crime,
Simply Red,
Television,
Cecil Taylor,
Thompson Twins,
Whodini,
Slave,
Minor Threat,
Chris & Cosey,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
KRS-One,
the Soft Cell,
Ituana,
Clear Light,
Harmonia,
The Slits,
the Normal,
Sam Rivers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Reuben Wilson,
The Smoke,
The Moody Blues,
The Star Department,
Wally Richardson,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sugar Minott,
Girls At Our Best!,
Groovy Waters,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
La Düsseldorf,
ABC,
Lou Reed,
Buzzcocks,
EPMD,
Heaven 17,
The Fire Engines,
Sonny Sharrock,
L. Decosne,
Nils Olav,
Cal Tjader,
Fela Kuti,
The Misunderstood,
Los Fastidios,
The Wake,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crooked Eye,
Suicide,
Anakelly,
Michelle Simonal,
Von Mondo,
Rufus Thomas,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Green,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.