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 Tajikistan and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Theoretical Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Leaves,
Joyce Sims,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minnie Riperton,
The Saints,
Technova,
Los Fastidios,
Glenn Branca,
Yellowson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Star Department,
Leonard Cohen,
Terry Callier,
The Fire Engines,
Pole,
Amon Düül II,
Cluster,
Derrick Morgan,
DJ Style,
Motorama,
John Holt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
World's Most,
The Five Americans,
Arcadia,
Kool Moe Dee,
June of 44,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pere Ubu,
In Retrospect,
Parry Music,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wings,
Guru Guru,
Main Source,
Goldenarms,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Henry Cow,
The Skatalites,
The Mummies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rosa Yemen,
Stetsasonic,
Lightning Bolt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Piero Umiliani,
Con Funk Shun,
Buzzcocks,
The Slackers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
DJ Sneak,
Thee Headcoats,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.