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 Tuvalu and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Erasure 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Fraelich,
The Grass Roots,
Sun City Girls,
Yazoo,
Rosa Yemen,
Camberwell Now,
LL Cool J,
Banda Bassotti,
Tears for Fears,
The Motions,
Barrington Levy,
The Angels of Light,
The Raincoats,
Barbara Tucker,
Sight & Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fat Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pussy Galore,
The Martian,
The Pretty Things,
Hasil Adkins,
John Holt,
Quantec,
Lalann,
The Divine Comedy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sparks,
Gang Green,
Blancmange,
Swans,
Roy Ayers,
Minutemen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cecil Taylor,
The Invisible,
Talk Talk,
Camouflage,
Saccharine Trust,
Tom Boy,
Judy Mowatt,
The Slackers,
The Happenings,
The Golliwogs,
ABBA,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ice-T,
Connie Case,
MDC,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Funkadelic,
The Names,
Tubeway Army,
Michelle Simonal,
The Techniques,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.