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 Taipei.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet 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 Bluetip to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Black Sheep,
Erasure,
Bobby Sherman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Monolake,
the Soft Cell,
Youth Brigade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Duran Duran,
Ituana,
Lower 48,
The Doors,
The Leaves,
Gang Green,
The Electric Prunes,
Marvin Gaye,
Bootsy Collins,
The Moody Blues,
This Heat,
The Saints,
Rufus Thomas,
David Bowie,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Make Up,
Moebius,
Wally Richardson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jawbox,
Matthew Halsall,
Shuggie Otis,
Fugazi,
LL Cool J,
The Sound,
Ossler,
Intrusion,
Aaron Thompson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Index,
The Zeros,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Michelle Simonal,
The Index,
Glenn Branca,
Oblivians,
CMW,
Tubeway Army,
The Invisible,
Cecil Taylor,
Vainqueur,
Juan Atkins,
Alton Ellis,
The Dave Clark Five,
The J.B.'s,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rapeman,
Stereo Dub,
Fad Gadget,
Gichy Dan,
The Real Kids,
Sparks,
The Fortunes,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.