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 Samoa and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Grass Roots to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Unwound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Aaron Thompson,
Public Enemy,
Todd Rundgren,
Nik Kershaw,
Smog,
Thompson Twins,
The Move,
Tubeway Army,
Roxy Music,
Joe Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
T.S.O.L.,
Absolute Body Control,
Can,
The Count Five,
Hashim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kaleidoscope,
Kool Moe Dee,
La Düsseldorf,
Mission of Burma,
The Searchers,
Goldenarms,
Buzzcocks,
Inner City,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gladiators,
Colin Newman,
June of 44,
Joe Finger,
Leonard Cohen,
Minor Threat,
Dead Boys,
The Wake,
Agitation Free,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James White and The Blacks,
Royal Trux,
Bang On A Can,
Lower 48,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tears for Fears,
LL Cool J,
Organ,
Qualms,
The Doors,
Lou Reed,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.