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 Sri Lanka and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 B.T. Express to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
The Red Krayola,
John Holt,
the Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bad Manners,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hardrive,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alison Limerick,
One Last Wish,
Quadrant,
June Days,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alton Ellis,
Echospace,
Oneida,
Parry Music,
Ituana,
The Associates,
Donald Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Lalann,
Eric Dolphy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Standells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Techniques,
Moebius,
The Blackbyrds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Howard Jones,
The Gun Club,
OOIOO,
Popol Vuh,
Cymande,
The Residents,
a-ha,
Barrington Levy,
Dawn Penn,
Gabor Szabo,
the Bar-Kays,
Slick Rick,
Lebanon Hanover,
Suburban Knight,
Pantaleimon,
The Electric Prunes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Model 500,
Negative Approach,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang of Four,
The Last Poets,
Eve St. Jones,
Sex Pistols,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.