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 Mauritius and from Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 The Slackers to the crunk 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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Godley & Creme,
Dark Day,
The Fugs,
Adolescents,
Neu!,
Rhythm & Sound,
Monolake,
Oblivians,
Fat Boys,
Joyce Sims,
The Pretty Things,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Bourne,
LL Cool J,
FM Einheit,
Yazoo,
Fluxion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood,
Scion,
Rakim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jeff Mills,
the Normal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley,
Reuben Wilson,
A Certain Ratio,
Subhumans,
Scan 7,
EPMD,
Suicide,
Anakelly,
The Misunderstood,
Bill Near,
Accadde A,
The Black Dice,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Invisible,
Hasil Adkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Angry Samoans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
Soulsonic Force,
Girls At Our Best!,
Delta 5,
Swans,
Jawbox,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Babytalk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Outsiders,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.