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 Seychelles and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 Godley & Creme to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Dave Gahan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kenny Larkin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aural Exciters,
Brass Construction,
D'Angelo,
Joensuu 1685,
Robert Wyatt,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grey Daturas,
Lalann,
Shuggie Otis,
the Normal,
In Retrospect,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rekid,
AZ,
Erykah Badu,
The Doors,
ABC,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
A Certain Ratio,
Anakelly,
Maurizio,
Livin' Joy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Christie,
Stiv Bators,
Pole,
Swell Maps,
Altered Images,
Moby Grape,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eurythmics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Black Dice,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Vladislav Delay,
Carl Craig,
Barry Ungar,
L. Decosne,
Rotary Connection,
The Durutti Column,
Suicide,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang Starr,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Monks,
World's Most,
Matthew Bourne,
Q and Not U,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scott Walker,
Kaleidoscope,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Harmonia,
The Angels of Light,
Agitation Free,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.