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 Taiwan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Michelle Simonal to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
T.S.O.L.,
Oneida,
A Certain Ratio,
Nick Fraelich,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-102,
Q65,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Sherman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pussy Galore,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chris & Cosey,
The Smoke,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wally Richardson,
Au Pairs,
Robert Wyatt,
The Sonics,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Wells,
Anakelly,
Buzzcocks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Saints,
Smog,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare,
Supertramp,
Sandy B,
Josef K,
Soft Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Suicide,
Amon Düül,
Al Stewart,
The Slackers,
Sound Behaviour,
Pagans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Surgeon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rufus Thomas,
The Durutti Column,
The Misunderstood,
Jacob Miller,
Organ,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barbara Tucker,
E-Dancer,
Barry Ungar,
Kool Moe Dee,
Archie Shepp,
Heaven 17,
Roger Hodgson,
Spoonie Gee,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.