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 Togo and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eurythmics to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Man Parrish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Slick Rick,
The Moody Blues,
Howard Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zapp,
Gang Green,
Bill Wells,
Make Up,
Cal Tjader,
Sex Pistols,
Ohio Players,
Soft Cell,
The Mojo Men,
the Slits,
Y Pants,
Model 500,
H. Thieme,
Harmonia,
The Happenings,
The Velvet Underground,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thee Headcoats,
Tomorrow,
Bang On A Can,
The Martian,
Stereo Dub,
Minutemen,
Eric Dolphy,
Quantec,
The Fugs,
OOIOO,
FM Einheit,
Shuggie Otis,
Mad Mike,
Grey Daturas,
Nico,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cramps,
ABC,
New York Dolls,
Technova,
Fat Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Essential Logic,
Gong,
the Germs,
Faraquet,
Fad Gadget,
Chrome,
Funky Four + One,
Swans,
Erykah Badu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Adolescents,
Sun City Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Schoolly D,
Scion,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.