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 Mauritius and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thompson Twins to the grime 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Deepchord,
B.T. Express,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Half Japanese,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Index,
Roy Ayers,
Robert Görl,
Yusef Lateef,
X-Ray Spex,
Freddie Wadling,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rotary Connection,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nas,
Eric Copeland,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nils Olav,
Quando Quango,
Mars,
the Bar-Kays,
Andrew Hill,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roxette,
Jeff Lynne,
Gong,
Basic Channel,
Kurtis Blow,
New Age Steppers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joe Smooth,
The Mojo Men,
This Heat,
Amazonics,
Desert Stars,
Boredoms,
Blake Baxter,
Faraquet,
The Knickerbockers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
H. Thieme,
Ralphi Rosario,
Amon Düül,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Monks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Harmonia,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tears for Fears,
Byron Stingily,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pulsallama,
Maurizio,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.