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 Cape Verde and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Royal Trux,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
Soft Cell,
The Monks,
Swell Maps,
Yellowson,
Basic Channel,
The Dead C,
Fear,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aloha Tigers,
Carl Craig,
Moby Grape,
Piero Umiliani,
Hashim,
Rufus Thomas,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Cheater Slicks,
Animal Collective,
the Soft Cell,
Q and Not U,
DNA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun Ra,
The Standells,
Public Image Ltd.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Das Ding,
Second Layer,
Joyce Sims,
Hasil Adkins,
The Zeros,
Junior Murvin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Technova,
Symarip,
The Raincoats,
The Young Rascals,
a-ha,
Rites of Spring,
Minny Pops,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
Pantaleimon,
Ice-T,
Pylon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gong,
ABBA,
Erasure,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Newcleus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ituana,
Circle Jerks,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.