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 Cape Verde and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Heaven 17 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hot Snakes,
Supertramp,
The Divine Comedy,
James White and The Blacks,
Spandau Ballet,
The Vogues,
Davy DMX,
Rotary Connection,
T. Rex,
Tom Boy,
Steve Hackett,
Hashim,
Thompson Twins,
Camberwell Now,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yusef Lateef,
T.S.O.L.,
Cal Tjader,
The Fugs,
Agent Orange,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Lydon,
Yazoo,
Spoonie Gee,
Pylon,
The Residents,
Jesper Dahlback,
CMW,
Parry Music,
Mr. Review,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
June Days,
Public Image Ltd.,
Colin Newman,
Tommy Roe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sonics,
Pierre Henry,
New York Dolls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Graham Central Station,
E-Dancer,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Althea and Donna,
Duran Duran,
Gong,
Cymande,
The Tremeloes,
Motorama,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Panda Bear,
Ituana,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joyce Sims,
Kaleidoscope,
The Star Department,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.