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 Belarus and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Young Rascals 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Porter Ricks,
Section 25,
Con Funk Shun,
Arthur Verocai,
Fad Gadget,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nirvana,
EPMD,
Angry Samoans,
Dual Sessions,
Jimmy McGriff,
Drexciya,
Ponytail,
Crooked Eye,
Cecil Taylor,
cv313,
Marine Girls,
The Fall,
The Standells,
The Skatalites,
ABBA,
Joy Division,
Von Mondo,
Magma,
The Real Kids,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Womack,
Suburban Knight,
E-Dancer,
The Monks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Babytalk,
The Dead C,
The Last Poets,
Moss Icon,
the Swans,
Sun Ra,
Kayak,
Essential Logic,
Pantaleimon,
The Fuzztones,
The Velvet Underground,
Cheater Slicks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soul II Soul,
The Vogues,
Cymande,
Sandy B,
Black Flag,
Depeche Mode,
Bill Near,
Main Source,
Spoonie Gee,
Khruangbin,
Joe Smooth,
The Busters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Magazine,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.