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 Maldives and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eli Mardock to the rap 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Yellowson,
Pantytec,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slackers,
Mission of Burma,
Country Teasers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dennis Brown,
Supertramp,
Harmonia,
Matthew Bourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sun Ra,
Suicide,
Al Stewart,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blackbyrds,
The Five Americans,
Leonard Cohen,
Archie Shepp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arthur Verocai,
Sight & Sound,
Funkadelic,
Nico,
A Certain Ratio,
Masters at Work,
Scan 7,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Unrelated Segments,
Basic Channel,
Pulsallama,
Absolute Body Control,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Lydon,
Aswad,
Andrew Hill,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers,
The Skatalites,
The Black Dice,
Cluster,
Sam Rivers,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fire Engines,
The Doors,
Todd Terry,
Wire,
Spandau Ballet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Babytalk,
Popol Vuh,
Nils Olav,
kango's stein massive,
The Pop Group,
the Slits,
The Knickerbockers,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.