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 Laos and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 The Beau Brummels to the jazz 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Gang Starr,
Skriet,
JFA,
Charles Mingus,
Kas Product,
Hashim,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Unwound,
The Barracudas,
The Kinks,
Sparks,
Zapp,
T. Rex,
The Happenings,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Smog,
Yaz,
Ronnie Foster,
Sugar Minott,
The Offenders,
The Cramps,
Eve St. Jones,
Groovy Waters,
Alice Coltrane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Buckinghams,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Infiniti,
Fat Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
Amazonics,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry's Kids,
Maleditus Sound,
Motorama,
Isaac Hayes,
Young Marble Giants,
Moebius,
Country Teasers,
Make Up,
Derrick May,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Holt,
Joe Smooth,
The Real Kids,
Chris Corsano,
Aswad,
The Red Krayola,
The Dead C,
Organ,
Arthur Verocai,
Sight & Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Index,
Au Pairs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
F. McDonald,
Joyce Sims,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.