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 Mauritania and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes 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 Wasted Youth to the punk 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
X-Ray Spex,
the Slits,
Iggy Pop,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roxette,
Jesper Dahlback,
Animal Collective,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Saints,
Minutemen,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Porter Ricks,
Essential Logic,
Swell Maps,
Pierre Henry,
Visage,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun City Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ralphi Rosario,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soulsonic Force,
Eddi Front,
Faust,
Susan Cadogan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lou Christie,
Yazoo,
Morten Harket,
Roxy Music,
Tim Buckley,
Average White Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Charles Mingus,
Sight & Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Circle Jerks,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed,
Wolf Eyes,
The Index,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arthur Verocai,
Neil Young,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Andrew Hill,
The Doors,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Duran Duran,
H. Thieme,
Television Personalities,
Television,
Audionom,
MC5,
Neu!,
Flash Fearless,
R.M.O.,
Rakim,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.