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 Bahrain and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The New Christs to the techno 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Negative Approach,
The Fall,
Gerry Rafferty,
Anakelly,
In Retrospect,
Liliput,
Robert Görl,
Rod Modell,
Black Pus,
Lou Christie,
Parry Music,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Organ,
Mad Mike,
Slave,
The Kinks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Can,
Todd Terry,
Thompson Twins,
D'Angelo,
This Heat,
Black Sheep,
Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
Cameo,
Neil Young,
Yazoo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kayak,
Aswad,
Quadrant,
Erasure,
Albert Ayler,
Hashim,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalo Schifrin,
OOIOO,
Livin' Joy,
Alton Ellis,
Ultravox,
Faust,
Scott Walker,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Janne Schatter,
Average White Band,
Hoover,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacques Brel,
The Martian,
Rufus Thomas,
David McCallum,
The Fugs,
The Trojans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.