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 Grenada and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Soulsonic Force to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Groovy Waters,
Khruangbin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ludus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Guru Guru,
Fad Gadget,
Deakin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marvin Gaye,
James White and The Blacks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brick,
Wire,
KRS-One,
Banda Bassotti,
Moby Grape,
Smog,
Harry Pussy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alton Ellis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobby Hutcherson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy Collins,
Reuben Wilson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grandmaster Flash,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Germs,
Byron Stingily,
Audionom,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tomorrow,
Ronan,
Eric Dolphy,
Arcadia,
Kerri Chandler,
the Sonics,
U.S. Maple,
Eddi Front,
Swans,
Lyres,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jandek,
Heaven 17,
John Lydon,
The Slits,
Josef K,
Clear Light,
The Cowsills,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television Personalities,
Roxy Music,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
AZ,
T. Rex,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.