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 United States and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Schoolly D to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Trumans Water,
Little Man,
Echospace,
The Cramps,
Zero Boys,
In Retrospect,
cv313,
The Smoke,
Agitation Free,
Nik Kershaw,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Hill,
The J.B.'s,
Television,
Charles Mingus,
Boz Scaggs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soft Machine,
Alphaville,
Underground Resistance,
Index,
Hasil Adkins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stereo Dub,
The Cosmic Jokers,
MDC,
Unwound,
Amon Düül II,
Nick Fraelich,
Porter Ricks,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
B.T. Express,
Vladislav Delay,
The Pretty Things,
The Doobie Brothers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Piero Umiliani,
Rufus Thomas,
Matthew Halsall,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Radio Birdman,
Lyres,
Interpol,
Albert Ayler,
Morten Harket,
Al Stewart,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brothers Johnson,
JFA,
Mr. Review,
Fat Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
MC5,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.