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 Eritrea and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rites of Spring to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '80s 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 Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
AZ,
the Association,
Mantronix,
Television Personalities,
Flipper,
Suburban Knight,
The Cowsills,
Stiv Bators,
Infiniti,
Fluxion,
Kas Product,
Faraquet,
Ronan,
Vladislav Delay,
Absolute Body Control,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
U.S. Maple,
X-101,
D'Angelo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Terry Callier,
Pantaleimon,
Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Second Layer,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minor Threat,
Gang Gang Dance,
Delon & Dalcan,
Warsaw,
Pulsallama,
Scratch Acid,
Hoover,
Bronski Beat,
Gabor Szabo,
The Invisible,
Glambeats Corp.,
H. Thieme,
Nas,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric Copeland,
Monolake,
The American Breed,
Trumans Water,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bang On A Can,
Eurythmics,
Visage,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Pretty Things,
Niagra,
Ohio Players,
Todd Terry,
Duran Duran,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.