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 Australia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fire Engines to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Leaves,
Grey Daturas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Carl Craig,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultra Naté,
Maurizio,
U.S. Maple,
Thompson Twins,
Porter Ricks,
Hardrive,
Sandy B,
Shuggie Otis,
The Smoke,
Sight & Sound,
Rekid,
Arcadia,
K-Klass,
Circle Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Christie,
Slick Rick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Heaven 17,
X-Ray Spex,
Kayak,
Ten City,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mandrill,
Skaos,
Young Marble Giants,
Television,
Masters at Work,
The Monochrome Set,
CMW,
Liliput,
The Last Poets,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bill Wells,
Unrelated Segments,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
48th St. Collective,
E-Dancer,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sonics,
Niagra,
Boz Scaggs,
Dead Boys,
Rotary Connection,
Theoretical Girls,
The Associates,
Idris Muhammad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Panda Bear,
X-101,
Unwound,
Section 25,
Steve Hackett,
Mad Mike,
David McCallum,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.