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 Venezuela and from Mexico City.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the jazz 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Radio Birdman,
Monks,
Skaos,
The Cure,
Mandrill,
The Toasters,
Suicide,
Inner City,
Eddi Front,
Yellowson,
A Certain Ratio,
Jandek,
X-102,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ronan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Music Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Reagan Youth,
L. Decosne,
Second Layer,
K-Klass,
Lyres,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Steve Hackett,
Organ,
Wolf Eyes,
Y Pants,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Seeds,
John Lydon,
Television,
The Raincoats,
Agitation Free,
Stereo Dub,
Oblivians,
Animal Collective,
Unwound,
EPMD,
Thee Headcoats,
Simply Red,
The Victims,
The Sound,
Arab on Radar,
One Last Wish,
MDC,
Ultimate Spinach,
Byron Stingily,
Livin' Joy,
John Holt,
Black Bananas,
The Busters,
Cameo,
the Bar-Kays,
Dead Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Masters at Work,
Deakin,
Susan Cadogan,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
H. Thieme,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.