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 Kiribati 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a mellotron 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 linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
CMW,
Kerrie Biddell,
Supertramp,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sugar Minott,
Crash Course in Science,
Sarah Menescal,
John Cale,
Peter and Kerry,
Electric Prunes,
Althea and Donna,
Alphaville,
One Last Wish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marine Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Terrestrial Tones,
Warren Ellis,
Shuggie Otis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Bowie,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
Bang On A Can,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alice Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
Negative Approach,
The Slits,
Black Sheep,
Cal Tjader,
Max Romeo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radiohead,
The Divine Comedy,
Wolf Eyes,
Freddie Wadling,
Man Parrish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cameo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Suburban Knight,
Japan,
Oblivians,
Aaron Thompson,
Piero Umiliani,
Excepter,
Slick Rick,
Colin Newman,
Nas,
Outsiders,
Wire,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sandy B,
Black Pus,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.