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 Kenya and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Glenn Branca to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fugazi,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tubeway Army,
Arcadia,
The Seeds,
Lakeside,
Saccharine Trust,
Jimmy McGriff,
Banda Bassotti,
John Holt,
Whodini,
The Sound,
The Fire Engines,
Nik Kershaw,
Freddie Wadling,
Pole,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aswad,
Max Romeo,
The Tremeloes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
Mad Mike,
Soul Sonic Force,
E-Dancer,
Youth Brigade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Toni Rubio,
The Leaves,
AZ,
Radiohead,
X-102,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Heaven 17,
Skriet,
Aaron Thompson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Machine,
Ohio Players,
Tommy Roe,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Henry Cow,
La Düsseldorf,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Pus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The American Breed,
Bauhaus,
Roger Hodgson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Yazoo,
Albert Ayler,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brand Nubian,
Fat Boys,
Morten Harket,
Amazonics,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.