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 Jamaica and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 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 Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Monks,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ornette Coleman,
Suicide,
Fatback Band,
Black Pus,
Sight & Sound,
The Monks,
Glambeats Corp.,
T.S.O.L.,
Organ,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Real Kids,
Television Personalities,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cheater Slicks,
The Misunderstood,
Animal Collective,
Avey Tare,
The Wake,
Reuben Wilson,
Stetsasonic,
Jeff Mills,
John Cale,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scrapy,
Sandy B,
Ronan,
Eve St. Jones,
Yellowson,
Robert Wyatt,
Interpol,
Roxy Music,
John Coltrane,
Isaac Hayes,
Ice-T,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
Smog,
Flipper,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Groovy Waters,
Buzzcocks,
Robert Hood,
Alton Ellis,
Mr. Review,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Happenings,
The Music Machine,
Intrusion,
the Soft Cell,
The Last Poets,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Icehouse,
the Association,
Hardrive,
Moss Icon,
Eddi Front,
Moebius,
Reagan Youth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.