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 Netherlands and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Aaron Thompson to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Freddie Wadling,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rakim,
Danielle Patucci,
The Human League,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vladislav Delay,
Joy Division,
Babytalk,
Pulsallama,
Visage,
Groovy Waters,
The Dead C,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Smoke,
Suicide,
Erasure,
The Fall,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Sheep,
Darondo,
The Trojans,
Sound Behaviour,
Marmalade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oblivians,
Yellowson,
Jerry's Kids,
John Foxx,
Bauhaus,
Surgeon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Normal,
Michelle Simonal,
John Coltrane,
Joey Negro,
Ituana,
Idris Muhammad,
Sonny Sharrock,
Public Enemy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Con Funk Shun,
The Associates,
Stiv Bators,
The United States of America,
Brass Construction,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris & Cosey,
June of 44,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Harry Pussy,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.