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 Czech Republic and from Paris.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Lungfish to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Agitation Free,
CMW,
Second Layer,
Alice Coltrane,
The Trojans,
The Mummies,
Johnny Clarke,
The Move,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Monolake,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Q and Not U,
The Smoke,
Bluetip,
Terry Callier,
Pierre Henry,
Hoover,
Soft Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Reuben Wilson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Durutti Column,
Wolf Eyes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eurythmics,
E-Dancer,
Connie Case,
Ituana,
Roy Ayers,
Aloha Tigers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Absolute Body Control,
Reagan Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slackers,
the Soft Cell,
Sonic Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marmalade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Last Poets,
The Blues Magoos,
A Certain Ratio,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
Outsiders,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Techniques,
the Slits,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Mills,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.