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 Fiji 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Neu! 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Sun Ra,
Hardrive,
Unwound,
Adolescents,
Glambeats Corp.,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Monochrome Set,
Funky Four + One,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Womack,
David Axelrod,
Das Ding,
Cal Tjader,
The New Christs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Japan,
Gong,
Desert Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Ohio Players,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mission of Burma,
The J.B.'s,
a-ha,
The Offenders,
Eddi Front,
Prince Buster,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hoover,
The Wake,
Can,
Mary Jane Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
Erasure,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
In Retrospect,
The Misunderstood,
The Moody Blues,
Eli Mardock,
the Swans,
June Days,
Thompson Twins,
Qualms,
Faust,
Franke,
Deakin,
Skriet,
The Last Poets,
The Red Krayola,
Pierre Henry,
Jerry's Kids,
JFA,
Radio Birdman,
Roxette,
Maleditus Sound,
Minor Threat,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.