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 Gambia and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the disco 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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Peter and Kerry,
The Happenings,
Thee Headcoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liliput,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Terry,
Lakeside,
David Axelrod,
48th St. Collective,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tom Boy,
The Seeds,
This Heat,
Nik Kershaw,
Spoonie Gee,
Scan 7,
Easy Going,
Avey Tare,
ABBA,
Los Fastidios,
Byron Stingily,
The Fall,
Graham Central Station,
Japan,
The Last Poets,
The Index,
The Dead C,
Kas Product,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Moby Grape,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Parry Music,
Sun City Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dead Boys,
The Remains,
The Toasters,
Yellowson,
Simply Red,
Sound Behaviour,
Outsiders,
Soft Machine,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultra Naté,
The Residents,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slackers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kevin Saunderson,
B.T. Express,
Mission of Burma,
Flash Fearless,
Circle Jerks,
Maurizio,
Sun Ra,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.