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 Namibia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Andrew Hill,
Stiv Bators,
The Searchers,
U.S. Maple,
Jeff Mills,
Fear,
Pussy Galore,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Saccharine Trust,
Swans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monochrome Set,
Bang On A Can,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crime,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fluxion,
Sun City Girls,
World's Most,
Drexciya,
Fad Gadget,
Ludus,
Rosa Yemen,
Suicide,
Junior Murvin,
Barrington Levy,
PIL,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Traffic Nightmare,
Michelle Simonal,
Dorothy Ashby,
Q65,
Accadde A,
X-Ray Spex,
Sparks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stereo Dub,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Raincoats,
Basic Channel,
Arthur Verocai,
Minnie Riperton,
Big Daddy Kane,
New York Dolls,
Sun Ra,
Rufus Thomas,
Joe Finger,
The Gories,
The Martian,
Todd Rundgren,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Hood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ronan,
the Germs,
Black Moon,
Eddi Front,
Lalo Schifrin,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.