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 Ukraine and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Vladislav Delay,
Crime,
Jacques Brel,
The Mummies,
Fugazi,
Aural Exciters,
Derrick Morgan,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric Copeland,
Unrelated Segments,
Infiniti,
Idris Muhammad,
Bad Manners,
Flash Fearless,
the Normal,
Tubeway Army,
Mad Mike,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun City Girls,
Erykah Badu,
Cymande,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rekid,
Peter & Gordon,
Bang On A Can,
Cluster,
Skaos,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Quando Quango,
The Fugs,
Albert Ayler,
Organ,
Television,
Amazonics,
The Monks,
Easy Going,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fall,
Royal Trux,
Deadbeat,
48th St. Collective,
Motorama,
Pussy Galore,
The Walker Brothers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
AZ,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Desert Stars,
Marvin Gaye,
Metal Thangz,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Fat Boys,
Cameo,
New Age Steppers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Machine,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.