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 Bahamas and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 K-Klass to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
LL Cool J,
Bobby Womack,
The Tremeloes,
Can,
Lucky Dragons,
AZ,
Cameo,
The Vogues,
Shoche,
Country Teasers,
The Gun Club,
Crispian St. Peters,
Loose Ends,
Pagans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brothers Johnson,
This Heat,
Nils Olav,
Steve Hackett,
Fad Gadget,
E-Dancer,
The American Breed,
Graham Central Station,
Easy Going,
Aswad,
Interpol,
Marmalade,
Massinfluence,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mission of Burma,
Albert Ayler,
Archie Shepp,
Flash Fearless,
The Star Department,
Ten City,
Harmonia,
Toni Rubio,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fuzztones,
The Martian,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rites of Spring,
Glenn Branca,
Wasted Youth,
David Axelrod,
Siglo XX,
Delta 5,
Liliput,
Black Bananas,
Model 500,
Camberwell Now,
Stereo Dub,
Barclay James Harvest,
Isaac Hayes,
The Divine Comedy,
Bush Tetras,
The Gladiators,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nico,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Adolescents,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.