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 Uganda and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the rock 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
The Black Dice,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Soft Cell,
The Cure,
T.S.O.L.,
The Monks,
Tim Buckley,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Hill,
Mantronix,
Animal Collective,
Freddie Wadling,
Jacques Brel,
Colin Newman,
Lakeside,
Bill Wells,
Popol Vuh,
Kenny Larkin,
Spandau Ballet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Negative Approach,
Man Eating Sloth,
Faraquet,
Leonard Cohen,
Mission of Burma,
Newcleus,
Shuggie Otis,
Procol Harum,
Make Up,
Jawbox,
Funkadelic,
Youth Brigade,
June of 44,
Faust,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pole,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Offenders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispy Ambulance,
Essential Logic,
Michelle Simonal,
The Pretty Things,
Crime,
The Cowsills,
Cheater Slicks,
Fat Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Standells,
Khruangbin,
Swans,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Neon Judgement,
Das Ding,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joensuu 1685,
R.M.O.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.