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 Bulgaria and from Madrid.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the crunk 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Görl record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
JFA,
Matthew Halsall,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Buckinghams,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Junior Murvin,
New York Dolls,
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
Y Pants,
Fatback Band,
Ultravox,
Harry Pussy,
Reagan Youth,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radiohead,
The United States of America,
Man Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sparks,
A Certain Ratio,
Amazonics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Freddie Wadling,
Fluxion,
The Slits,
Mr. Review,
Bill Wells,
The Grass Roots,
Bang On A Can,
Deadbeat,
Lakeside,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marc Almond,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ornette Coleman,
Rufus Thomas,
The Trojans,
Los Fastidios,
Mission of Burma,
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
The Vogues,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Stooges,
Barry Ungar,
The Fall,
The Pretty Things,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Accadde A,
Fugazi,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.