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 Brunei and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Reuben Wilson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
China Crisis,
Niagra,
Zapp,
Flash Fearless,
Agitation Free,
Drexciya,
Toni Rubio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Names,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tres Demented,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alison Limerick,
Crash Course in Science,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fela Kuti,
Buzzcocks,
David Axelrod,
Das Ding,
Archie Shepp,
Gichy Dan,
Tears for Fears,
PIL,
Lyres,
Kas Product,
The Kinks,
Maleditus Sound,
Terry Callier,
The Cramps,
Max Romeo,
Desert Stars,
The Happenings,
Terrestrial Tones,
New Age Steppers,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Christie,
Johnny Clarke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radio Birdman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fugazi,
Cheater Slicks,
Sex Pistols,
Urselle,
Fad Gadget,
Warsaw,
The Divine Comedy,
Y Pants,
Banda Bassotti,
Khruangbin,
The Fuzztones,
Heaven 17,
Gang Starr,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-102,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.