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 Oman and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Juan Atkins to the disco 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eurythmics,
Mark Hollis,
Public Enemy,
The Vogues,
The Red Krayola,
The Seeds,
Half Japanese,
The Skatalites,
Yazoo,
Los Fastidios,
Pharoah Sanders,
Urselle,
Hot Snakes,
Grey Daturas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jesper Dahlback,
Drexciya,
T. Rex,
Amazonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Alison Limerick,
Sun City Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Royal Trux,
Eli Mardock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mantronix,
Althea and Donna,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Pus,
Crash Course in Science,
The Selecter,
Malaria!,
The Invisible,
Sonny Sharrock,
Depeche Mode,
The Pop Group,
Marine Girls,
Tommy Roe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Offenders,
John Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zero Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flipper,
Minny Pops,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Liliput,
B.T. Express,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.