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 Guinea and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum 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 The Count Five to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Cameo,
Kurtis Blow,
Country Teasers,
The Toasters,
Pantytec,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Velvet Underground,
H. Thieme,
These Immortal Souls,
Gabor Szabo,
Mo-Dettes,
Slick Rick,
Bang On A Can,
Toni Rubio,
the Human League,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
EPMD,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Sherman,
B.T. Express,
Gang Starr,
Fatback Band,
Vladislav Delay,
The Remains,
Liliput,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camberwell Now,
Hot Snakes,
The New Christs,
Television,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
T.S.O.L.,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
cv313,
Supertramp,
The Real Kids,
Rekid,
Sandy B,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ituana,
The United States of America,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Massinfluence,
Traffic Nightmare,
Echospace,
Sarah Menescal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Judy Mowatt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sam Rivers,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lyres,
Prince Buster,
Spandau Ballet,
Piero Umiliani,
Roxy Music,
Accadde A,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.