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 Kenya and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Albert Ayler,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cecil Taylor,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pylon,
The Litter,
Arab on Radar,
Angry Samoans,
B.T. Express,
Brass Construction,
Fad Gadget,
Peter and Kerry,
48th St. Collective,
The Stooges,
the Human League,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispy Ambulance,
June of 44,
Chris Corsano,
Second Layer,
AZ,
Royal Trux,
Flash Fearless,
Dual Sessions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Donald Byrd,
The Techniques,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Brand Nubian,
The Evens,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stetsasonic,
L. Decosne,
The Dead C,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marine Girls,
Tres Demented,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chrome,
These Immortal Souls,
Gichy Dan,
The Motions,
Amon Düül II,
Connie Case,
Rosa Yemen,
Heaven 17,
The Walker Brothers,
The Searchers,
Sound Behaviour,
Sight & Sound,
Joey Negro,
Dead Boys,
The Residents,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.