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 Mozambique and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eden Ahbez to the electroclash 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fatback Band,
Derrick May,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Davy DMX,
Anthony Braxton,
Surgeon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Connie Case,
Section 25,
Blancmange,
Rhythm & Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
DJ Style,
Crooked Eye,
Groovy Waters,
The Fortunes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Andrew Hill,
Severed Heads,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Foxx,
The Divine Comedy,
The Toasters,
The Busters,
Siglo XX,
Talk Talk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pole,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marc Almond,
Tears for Fears,
Susan Cadogan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Circle Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Bang On A Can,
June of 44,
Altered Images,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slackers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Procol Harum,
Lindisfarne,
In Retrospect,
Faust,
Soft Cell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lucky Dragons,
Lower 48,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minny Pops,
Ronnie Foster,
the Sonics,
The Young Rascals,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grey Daturas,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.