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 Swaziland and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Negative Approach to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
the Human League,
Pierre Henry,
Average White Band,
Drexciya,
Lower 48,
Stockholm Monsters,
Procol Harum,
Bob Dylan,
Malaria!,
Sarah Menescal,
Sandy B,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Inner City,
Slick Rick,
Bluetip,
Pantaleimon,
Infiniti,
Black Moon,
Robert Görl,
Henry Cow,
Pantytec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jacob Miller,
Pulsallama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crispian St. Peters,
Urselle,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Moleskins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The American Breed,
Alton Ellis,
The Barracudas,
Silicon Teens,
Scott Walker,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultravox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lyres,
The Birthday Party,
Colin Newman,
Japan,
Half Japanese,
The Happenings,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lalann,
The Blues Magoos,
Cymande,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thompson Twins,
Mars,
Make Up,
Letta Mbulu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jerry's Kids,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Desert Stars,
Severed Heads,
Boredoms,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.