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 El Salvador and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Motorama to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Letta Mbulu,
Television Personalities,
Suburban Knight,
Sparks,
Thee Headcoats,
Byron Stingily,
Stetsasonic,
H. Thieme,
In Retrospect,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ludus,
Joey Negro,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Eurythmics,
DJ Style,
Tubeway Army,
Roxy Music,
Saccharine Trust,
X-102,
Lightning Bolt,
Prince Buster,
Chrome,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Subhumans,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
Godley & Creme,
The Cowsills,
The Smiths,
Fear,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Velvet Underground,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick May,
The Invisible,
Oblivians,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Residents,
Sixth Finger,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neu!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ponytail,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
a-ha,
Los Fastidios,
Grauzone,
The Slits,
David Axelrod,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Altered Images,
Crash Course in Science,
Jacques Brel,
The Gladiators,
June of 44,
Idris Muhammad,
Rosa Yemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.