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 Sweden and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Y Pants to the grunge 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Flipper,
Quadrant,
Gong,
The Pretty Things,
Kenny Larkin,
Agitation Free,
The Slackers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Piero Umiliani,
Henry Cow,
the Swans,
Surgeon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Saints,
Bush Tetras,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-Ray Spex,
Boz Scaggs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Zero Boys,
Jacques Brel,
a-ha,
The Trojans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suicide,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Negative Approach,
Magma,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Janne Schatter,
Lower 48,
Reuben Wilson,
The Martian,
Steve Hackett,
Section 25,
LL Cool J,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Schoolly D,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Techniques,
Ludus,
Heaven 17,
Simply Red,
Alison Limerick,
The Names,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Knickerbockers,
Magazine,
Rotary Connection,
Amazonics,
Pierre Henry,
Ohio Players,
Freddie Wadling,
Gichy Dan,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.