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 Togo and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Donald Fagen 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 Skarface to the electroclash 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
The United States of America,
Malaria!,
Bizarre Inc.,
Siglo XX,
Todd Terry,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Arthur Verocai,
Roxette,
Slick Rick,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aaron Thompson,
Stetsasonic,
Magazine,
Junior Murvin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Depeche Mode,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lucky Dragons,
Bluetip,
The Toasters,
Kas Product,
Gabor Szabo,
The Zeros,
Carl Craig,
The Fire Engines,
Babytalk,
Barbara Tucker,
The Neon Judgement,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Moody Blues,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pet Shop Boys,
Goldenarms,
Yaz,
Suicide,
Tim Buckley,
The Pretty Things,
The Gories,
Marc Almond,
Eric Copeland,
David Bowie,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Offenders,
Fear,
The Dead C,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ten City,
Mad Mike,
The Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
Agent Orange,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare,
Pierre Henry,
Con Funk Shun,
Barrington Levy,
Section 25,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.