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 Serbia and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 June of 44 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Make Up,
The Birthday Party,
The United States of America,
Zero Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cybotron,
Pole,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Blancmange,
Groovy Waters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rufus Thomas,
Scrapy,
Big Daddy Kane,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sixth Finger,
Cluster,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cymande,
The Moody Blues,
Graham Central Station,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Near,
Los Fastidios,
Quadrant,
Funkadelic,
Ohio Players,
The Leaves,
Electric Prunes,
Index,
Joensuu 1685,
Young Marble Giants,
Theoretical Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bauhaus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alphaville,
The Techniques,
Junior Murvin,
La Düsseldorf,
Das Ding,
Newcleus,
The Toasters,
This Heat,
Camouflage,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Angry Samoans,
Eden Ahbez,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Durutti Column,
Fat Boys,
Japan,
Kenny Larkin,
New York Dolls,
Hoover,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Move,
Wolf Eyes,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.