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 North and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Country Teasers,
The Index,
Ohio Players,
Kerrie Biddell,
David Bowie,
Kayak,
Ludus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Vogues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New Order,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Lydon,
Audionom,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radio Birdman,
Faraquet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Normal,
Mantronix,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Panda Bear,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Japan,
Fad Gadget,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Womack,
The Associates,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dead C,
World's Most,
The Five Americans,
Clear Light,
the Soft Cell,
Juan Atkins,
The Electric Prunes,
Boredoms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sixth Finger,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Arthur Verocai,
Depeche Mode,
Andrew Hill,
The Kinks,
Popol Vuh,
Stetsasonic,
Guru Guru,
The Modern Lovers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jandek,
Metal Thangz,
The Black Dice,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.