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 United States and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Television Personalities to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
The Doors,
Sam Rivers,
Erykah Badu,
Black Bananas,
Don Cherry,
The Music Machine,
The Busters,
Funkadelic,
Altered Images,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun City Girls,
Junior Murvin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Steve Hackett,
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Gun Club,
Bill Wells,
Jacques Brel,
Aloha Tigers,
Porter Ricks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
Swans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gang of Four,
Nico,
Scott Walker,
Mandrill,
UT,
Angry Samoans,
Wally Richardson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eden Ahbez,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Wings,
Archie Shepp,
Infiniti,
Magma,
The Selecter,
Colin Newman,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
The Fire Engines,
Newcleus,
The Barracudas,
the Bar-Kays,
The New Christs,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dennis Brown,
Smog,
Bluetip,
Pantytec,
Stockholm Monsters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.