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 Canada and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Desert Stars,
Lightning Bolt,
the Normal,
The Gladiators,
a-ha,
Joey Negro,
Royal Trux,
Hoover,
Lou Christie,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Trojans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
Dead Boys,
KRS-One,
Tubeway Army,
La Düsseldorf,
Ornette Coleman,
The United States of America,
Nas,
Pere Ubu,
The Grass Roots,
Godley & Creme,
D'Angelo,
Pierre Henry,
Dennis Brown,
Deakin,
Magma,
Ponytail,
Mark Hollis,
A Certain Ratio,
Motorama,
Kurtis Blow,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Wake,
Rites of Spring,
Althea and Donna,
Gastr Del Sol,
ABBA,
Sun Ra,
Depeche Mode,
Ice-T,
Hasil Adkins,
New Age Steppers,
The Techniques,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric Dolphy,
the Sonics,
Wire,
Barry Ungar,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
Neu!,
John Foxx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Searchers,
Mr. Review,
Marc Almond,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.