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 Greece and from Johannesburg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Barbara Tucker to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Gang of Four,
F. McDonald,
D'Angelo,
Circle Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Howard Jones,
Toni Rubio,
Franke,
Nation of Ulysses,
Animal Collective,
Brass Construction,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gong,
Yusef Lateef,
Iggy Pop,
Alton Ellis,
R.M.O.,
Blancmange,
Marine Girls,
The Monks,
Rakim,
Marvin Gaye,
Glenn Branca,
Black Sheep,
Minor Threat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Doors,
Tommy Roe,
David Bowie,
The Trojans,
Roger Hodgson,
Aloha Tigers,
New Order,
The New Christs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Christie,
Marcia Griffiths,
Royal Trux,
The Fugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Zapp,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare,
The Dead C,
The Golliwogs,
David Axelrod,
Technova,
Yellowson,
Nils Olav,
Ludus,
Dead Boys,
The Remains,
Rotary Connection,
Funky Four + One,
Barry Ungar,
Derrick May,
Agent Orange,
Brick,
Nirvana,
Icehouse,
Flash Fearless,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.