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 Equatorial Guinea and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Bootsy Collins,
Negative Approach,
Lou Christie,
Sun City Girls,
Mission of Burma,
The Fall,
Gang Green,
Deadbeat,
The Fortunes,
Lalann,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cluster,
The Dead C,
Boz Scaggs,
Pylon,
AZ,
Tears for Fears,
The Cowsills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Victims,
Banda Bassotti,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sparks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moby Grape,
The Pretty Things,
Moebius,
Anakelly,
Urselle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quando Quango,
Rapeman,
CMW,
The Toasters,
Infiniti,
Dawn Penn,
Aural Exciters,
Pierre Henry,
The Knickerbockers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fire Engines,
Swell Maps,
Scrapy,
Fela Kuti,
Davy DMX,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron,
Porter Ricks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Schoolly D,
Todd Terry,
K-Klass,
Al Stewart,
Depeche Mode,
Ultravox,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.