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 Guinea-Bissau and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Slave to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rekid,
Juan Atkins,
The Young Rascals,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crash Course in Science,
Ludus,
OOIOO,
Niagra,
The Durutti Column,
Pole,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Mills,
The Fire Engines,
This Heat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed,
Ultimate Spinach,
Freddie Wadling,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kaleidoscope,
Sam Rivers,
Glenn Branca,
The Litter,
Dark Day,
Malaria!,
Faust,
The Trojans,
Toni Rubio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kurtis Blow,
Barbara Tucker,
Spoonie Gee,
Kayak,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun Ra,
Schoolly D,
the Slits,
X-102,
Harry Pussy,
Darondo,
The Modern Lovers,
The Happenings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Foxx,
New Age Steppers,
Television,
Todd Terry,
Half Japanese,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brothers Johnson,
Unwound,
Kenny Larkin,
Popol Vuh,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.