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 Ivory Coast and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator 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 X-102 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
This Heat,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Archie Shepp,
The Fortunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scrapy,
Hashim,
The Durutti Column,
The Smoke,
Pole,
Ronnie Foster,
Wings,
Country Teasers,
The Index,
Spandau Ballet,
The Beau Brummels,
Tres Demented,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Coltrane,
The Trojans,
Freddie Wadling,
Minutemen,
Echospace,
Dark Day,
ABBA,
the Human League,
Rapeman,
Sugar Minott,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Graham Central Station,
The Offenders,
The Divine Comedy,
Fugazi,
Steve Hackett,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
EPMD,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flamin' Groovies,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Standells,
Ten City,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Normal,
Bobby Womack,
Donny Hathaway,
Con Funk Shun,
Animal Collective,
Lungfish,
The Selecter,
Lyres,
The Martian,
Jerry's Kids,
The Red Krayola,
Severed Heads,
Duran Duran,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.