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 Malaysia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Arthur Verocai to the funk 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Yellowson,
The Modern Lovers,
Nas,
The Shadows of Knight,
H. Thieme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Albert Ayler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The American Breed,
Bobby Sherman,
Make Up,
Unwound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Camberwell Now,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
David Axelrod,
Bill Wells,
X-101,
Erasure,
Technova,
Laurel Aitken,
The Move,
James White and The Blacks,
The Five Americans,
Terry Callier,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Radiopuhelimet,
Connie Case,
The Neon Judgement,
A Certain Ratio,
Quadrant,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wolf Eyes,
The Victims,
K-Klass,
Chris & Cosey,
The Stooges,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bad Manners,
48th St. Collective,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brothers Johnson,
Zero Boys,
Niagra,
Radiohead,
Susan Cadogan,
Piero Umiliani,
MC5,
Scientists,
Young Marble Giants,
Cymande,
Au Pairs,
Wasted Youth,
Scion,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.