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 Luxembourg and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ultimate Spinach to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Pharoah Sanders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cameo,
Television Personalities,
The Cowsills,
Quantec,
Jawbox,
Warsaw,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Green,
Quadrant,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Symarip,
Hot Snakes,
Skriet,
Con Funk Shun,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jerry's Kids,
F. McDonald,
Reagan Youth,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra,
ABC,
Rakim,
Sällskapet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Donald Byrd,
Tim Buckley,
T. Rex,
Scan 7,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marmalade,
The Walker Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Dead Boys,
Crooked Eye,
Soul II Soul,
The Skatalites,
Juan Atkins,
Arcadia,
Agitation Free,
Eve St. Jones,
Dark Day,
Spandau Ballet,
Ituana,
Amazonics,
Bluetip,
Eli Mardock,
Audionom,
Lungfish,
Isaac Hayes,
Hoover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Motorama,
Bobby Womack,
The Durutti Column,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Don Cherry,
The Searchers,
Little Man,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.