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 Israel and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Edmonton and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Count Five to the techno 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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rakim,
DJ Style,
Marc Almond,
Derrick May,
Alice Coltrane,
The Buckinghams,
Half Japanese,
Gang Green,
Crime,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Q65,
Sixth Finger,
DNA,
Scientists,
the Fania All-Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
The Dead C,
The Fortunes,
Harmonia,
CMW,
B.T. Express,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cybotron,
The Tremeloes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Smoke,
Fear,
These Immortal Souls,
Brothers Johnson,
Nirvana,
Tubeway Army,
Babytalk,
Barrington Levy,
Mission of Burma,
Jeff Mills,
ABBA,
Gang Starr,
Trumans Water,
Interpol,
Roger Hodgson,
Moss Icon,
The Gap Band,
Sonic Youth,
E-Dancer,
Masters at Work,
Josef K,
Magma,
Shoche,
Fugazi,
Make Up,
Gil Scott Heron,
Clear Light,
Khruangbin,
This Heat,
The Evens,
Scan 7,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.