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 Zimbabwe and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 The Flesh Eaters to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nas,
Cameo,
The Vogues,
Brick,
Jacob Miller,
Jacques Brel,
X-101,
The Slackers,
These Immortal Souls,
48th St. Collective,
The Misunderstood,
Lyres,
Scientists,
Ultra Naté,
Marc Almond,
Brass Construction,
Tears for Fears,
EPMD,
Nick Fraelich,
Thompson Twins,
Cluster,
Kas Product,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Interpol,
The Golliwogs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Buckinghams,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
PIL,
Smog,
Echospace,
Chrome,
Sällskapet,
The Busters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Remains,
Bill Near,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Zero Boys,
The Motions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Juan Atkins,
The Index,
Television Personalities,
Ten City,
Drexciya,
The Toasters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tim Buckley,
Black Moon,
The Beau Brummels,
Moby Grape,
ABBA,
Stetsasonic,
Gabor Szabo,
Don Cherry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.