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 Senegal and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Qualms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Techniques,
The Velvet Underground,
Fat Boys,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultra Naté,
Franke,
Judy Mowatt,
Arcadia,
The Selecter,
Bluetip,
Sight & Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Ponytail,
Mad Mike,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ituana,
Hoover,
Harmonia,
Bang On A Can,
Cal Tjader,
Arthur Verocai,
Althea and Donna,
Parry Music,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Groovy Waters,
These Immortal Souls,
Thompson Twins,
June of 44,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter & Gordon,
Duran Duran,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Basic Channel,
Grey Daturas,
The Sound,
The Evens,
Spandau Ballet,
Toni Rubio,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Knickerbockers,
Radiohead,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
10cc,
Eddi Front,
Mars,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lindisfarne,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Electric Prunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs,
Magazine,
Black Moon,
Ohio Players,
Anthony Braxton,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.