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 Switzerland and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 Yazoo to the grunge 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Ohio Players,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Association,
Stereo Dub,
Severed Heads,
Kayak,
The Blues Magoos,
Suburban Knight,
Angry Samoans,
DJ Sneak,
DNA,
UT,
John Holt,
Soulsonic Force,
Slick Rick,
Rekid,
Barbara Tucker,
Wings,
Davy DMX,
Lalann,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jacob Miller,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Idris Muhammad,
Prince Buster,
The Leaves,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Five Americans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Subhumans,
Dark Day,
KRS-One,
The Names,
Man Eating Sloth,
Althea and Donna,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Saints,
Alphaville,
Zero Boys,
Skarface,
Goldenarms,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ken Boothe,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moby Grape,
Bronski Beat,
Aaron Thompson,
Clear Light,
The Seeds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Trumans Water,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Sheep,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Junior Murvin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bush Tetras,
L. Decosne,
Wolf Eyes,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rod Modell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.