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 Comoros and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the funk 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Procol Harum,
Oblivians,
Gabor Szabo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Derrick May,
Severed Heads,
kango's stein massive,
Terry Callier,
Flash Fearless,
Blake Baxter,
Absolute Body Control,
Erykah Badu,
Harpers Bizarre,
K-Klass,
The Offenders,
Lakeside,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alton Ellis,
Slave,
Tears for Fears,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pere Ubu,
Todd Terry,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
ABC,
John Cale,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
DJ Style,
Ultra Naté,
Ossler,
New York Dolls,
These Immortal Souls,
Thee Headcoats,
The Kinks,
MC5,
Siglo XX,
The Residents,
Ohio Players,
The Vogues,
the Slits,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Wake,
Mars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zero Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alice Coltrane,
Pagans,
X-102,
Hardrive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Don Cherry,
Shuggie Otis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Man Parrish,
the Bar-Kays,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.