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 Czech Republic and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord 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 Clear Light to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Q and Not U,
Piero Umiliani,
Suicide,
Letta Mbulu,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dead Boys,
Minny Pops,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers,
the Soft Cell,
Gil Scott Heron,
Outsiders,
Fela Kuti,
Tom Boy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jimmy McGriff,
H. Thieme,
Erasure,
Gang Starr,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Christie,
The Pretty Things,
Circle Jerks,
Silicon Teens,
Ohio Players,
Deepchord,
John Cale,
Robert Görl,
Severed Heads,
These Immortal Souls,
Bang On A Can,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Average White Band,
June Days,
Scratch Acid,
Tres Demented,
Franke,
Grauzone,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Quando Quango,
Country Teasers,
Fad Gadget,
The Litter,
Gichy Dan,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Urselle,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Rakim,
June of 44,
The Offenders,
Grey Daturas,
the Sonics,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.