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 Suriname and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 T.S.O.L. to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Boogie Down Productions,
Peter & Gordon,
Sound Behaviour,
Suburban Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Sherman,
X-Ray Spex,
Blancmange,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Whodini,
Little Man,
Susan Cadogan,
Terry Callier,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kerri Chandler,
Quando Quango,
The Move,
These Immortal Souls,
the Soft Cell,
Von Mondo,
Eden Ahbez,
Outsiders,
Byron Stingily,
The Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Mission of Burma,
Blake Baxter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scratch Acid,
Scott Walker,
The Wake,
Interpol,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Offenders,
New Order,
Flipper,
Rapeman,
Scion,
Yellowson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mark Hollis,
Toni Rubio,
John Foxx,
Bang On A Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Görl,
Man Parrish,
the Slits,
Piero Umiliani,
Fifty Foot Hose,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crash Course in Science,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chrome,
ABBA,
Basic Channel,
H. Thieme,
Gabor Szabo,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.