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 Cambodia and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
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 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 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Donald Byrd,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ossler,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cymande,
Severed Heads,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sparks,
Deepchord,
Rufus Thomas,
Anakelly,
Nick Fraelich,
David McCallum,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Slackers,
Idris Muhammad,
The Pop Group,
The Techniques,
Deakin,
Robert Wyatt,
the Slits,
The Stooges,
Chris Corsano,
Stiv Bators,
The Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
X-101,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
The Real Kids,
Flipper,
Desert Stars,
Masters at Work,
The Residents,
The Mojo Men,
Lightning Bolt,
Sound Behaviour,
Rotary Connection,
Carl Craig,
Agitation Free,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Monolake,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lakeside,
Hasil Adkins,
Vainqueur,
LL Cool J,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eli Mardock,
OOIOO,
Liliput,
June Days,
Morten Harket,
Kerri Chandler,
Sex Pistols,
Marmalade,
Rod Modell,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tears for Fears,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blancmange,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.