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 Djibouti 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Letta Mbulu to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
The Beau Brummels,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blake Baxter,
Glenn Branca,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joyce Sims,
Man Parrish,
EPMD,
U.S. Maple,
The Trojans,
The Mummies,
Banda Bassotti,
Symarip,
Charles Mingus,
The Human League,
Tubeway Army,
Scientists,
The Doors,
Hardrive,
E-Dancer,
Eric Dolphy,
Kurtis Blow,
Minnie Riperton,
Shuggie Otis,
The Music Machine,
The Gun Club,
Moss Icon,
Joensuu 1685,
A Certain Ratio,
Slave,
Bauhaus,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Real Kids,
Kas Product,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sixth Finger,
The Busters,
MC5,
Danielle Patucci,
Graham Central Station,
Tommy Roe,
The Black Dice,
Erykah Badu,
The Gladiators,
Letta Mbulu,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Index,
Piero Umiliani,
Aaron Thompson,
Eve St. Jones,
World's Most,
Minor Threat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fatback Band,
Zapp,
Peter and Kerry,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.