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 Denmark and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the grunge 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Deepchord,
The Kinks,
Alphaville,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
The Buckinghams,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The American Breed,
Cal Tjader,
Scion,
Shoche,
John Cale,
MC5,
The Dead C,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minny Pops,
Roxy Music,
Minutemen,
Von Mondo,
Sex Pistols,
The Victims,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Howard Jones,
Mandrill,
Joe Finger,
Siglo XX,
Eddi Front,
Ossler,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scientists,
Icehouse,
Barbara Tucker,
the Slits,
Max Romeo,
Roy Ayers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
OOIOO,
Aural Exciters,
The Smiths,
Peter and Kerry,
Rites of Spring,
Excepter,
The Toasters,
Erykah Badu,
Letta Mbulu,
Cluster,
June Days,
Jesper Dahlback,
Godley & Creme,
Animal Collective,
The United States of America,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Danielle Patucci,
Babytalk,
David Bowie,
The Fortunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Dual Sessions,
The Misunderstood,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.