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 Korea South and from Delhi.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Second Layer to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Ronan,
The Beau Brummels,
John Cale,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
New Order,
Monks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Fatback Band,
Black Bananas,
Public Enemy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultravox,
Inner City,
The Gun Club,
Accadde A,
Fela Kuti,
This Heat,
Nico,
Brass Construction,
David Axelrod,
DJ Style,
Kaleidoscope,
The Seeds,
Cymande,
Lou Reed,
Radio Birdman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Leaves,
Erasure,
The American Breed,
Sexual Harrassment,
MC5,
Crispy Ambulance,
Max Romeo,
Toni Rubio,
Urselle,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Index,
Chris & Cosey,
Michelle Simonal,
The Black Dice,
Von Mondo,
Visage,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fuzztones,
Albert Ayler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Leonard Cohen,
CMW,
Jacques Brel,
E-Dancer,
Eurythmics,
Liliput,
Jandek,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.