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 Colombia and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joe Finger to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Bill Near,
Wally Richardson,
Das Ding,
Kayak,
Heaven 17,
Magazine,
The Grass Roots,
H. Thieme,
Harry Pussy,
X-101,
Monks,
A Certain Ratio,
T. Rex,
Aloha Tigers,
Maurizio,
The Neon Judgement,
Matthew Halsall,
Monolake,
Jandek,
kango's stein massive,
Lower 48,
Ronan,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Ultra Naté,
Prince Buster,
The Smiths,
Davy DMX,
Robert Wyatt,
The Barracudas,
Masters at Work,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nick Fraelich,
Qualms,
Roy Ayers,
Infiniti,
Erykah Badu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sight & Sound,
The Cowsills,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Visage,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Index,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sugar Minott,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Toni Rubio,
Tubeway Army,
June Days,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Golliwogs,
Bang On A Can,
The Selecter,
Eve St. Jones,
Q65,
Morten Harket,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.