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 Kiribati and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 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 Minnie Riperton to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Flesh Eaters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T.S.O.L.,
Nils Olav,
The Raincoats,
The Divine Comedy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jawbox,
Essential Logic,
F. McDonald,
Con Funk Shun,
Chris & Cosey,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Neu!,
Country Teasers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Connie Case,
10cc,
Cluster,
Black Flag,
Severed Heads,
Agitation Free,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang of Four,
Anakelly,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Toasters,
The Happenings,
The American Breed,
The Moleskins,
The Monochrome Set,
Lalo Schifrin,
Talk Talk,
Matthew Halsall,
Letta Mbulu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Sheep,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Junior Murvin,
Nirvana,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Selecter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lightning Bolt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
Donald Byrd,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fatback Band,
Funkadelic,
Ronan,
Cymande,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.