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 Nigeria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Flesh Eaters to the crunk 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Malaria!,
Brick,
Q and Not U,
Blake Baxter,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Moody Blues,
Sight & Sound,
Boredoms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stetsasonic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Zapp,
Metal Thangz,
Sister Nancy,
Soul II Soul,
Basic Channel,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Drive Like Jehu,
Audionom,
Alice Coltrane,
Cal Tjader,
Jacques Brel,
Rites of Spring,
The Sonics,
Wasted Youth,
Wally Richardson,
The Buckinghams,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grey Daturas,
Adolescents,
Nils Olav,
Mission of Burma,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Young Marble Giants,
Camouflage,
Minny Pops,
Desert Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dead C,
Lyres,
Deakin,
Khruangbin,
Ronnie Foster,
Soulsonic Force,
Henry Cow,
Derrick May,
Dead Boys,
Babytalk,
Davy DMX,
Kenny Larkin,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Tremeloes,
The Star Department,
Aswad,
James White and The Blacks,
Quadrant,
Big Daddy Kane,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.