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 Poland and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Royal Trux to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Ossler,
Bob Dylan,
The Associates,
The Barracudas,
Colin Newman,
John Cale,
Lou Reed,
Hoover,
The Music Machine,
Wings,
K-Klass,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rekid,
Public Enemy,
Suburban Knight,
Bootsy Collins,
Parry Music,
Gang Green,
Reuben Wilson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Little Man,
The Five Americans,
Underground Resistance,
Ice-T,
Cybotron,
Slick Rick,
Liliput,
La Düsseldorf,
Henry Cow,
Aural Exciters,
Barry Ungar,
Black Bananas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Popol Vuh,
The Offenders,
Khruangbin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Letta Mbulu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
This Heat,
The Pretty Things,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Surgeon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Amon Düül II,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eve St. Jones,
Byron Stingily,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gap Band,
kango's stein massive,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scott Walker,
Gregory Isaacs,
Section 25,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marine Girls,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.