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 Gambia and from Mumbai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Happenings to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Masters at Work,
Cecil Taylor,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ornette Coleman,
Interpol,
Pussy Galore,
Khruangbin,
Grey Daturas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Zeros,
Agent Orange,
The Moleskins,
A Certain Ratio,
Swell Maps,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joey Negro,
Aswad,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Slits,
Gang of Four,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Can,
Sandy B,
The Knickerbockers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Skriet,
Robert Hood,
Ludus,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scan 7,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hasil Adkins,
JFA,
X-102,
Organ,
The Star Department,
Jacob Miller,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Soft Cell,
Y Pants,
Eden Ahbez,
Brick,
Young Marble Giants,
New Order,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eve St. Jones,
Pylon,
Nas,
Terry Callier,
The Beau Brummels,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Neu!,
Reagan Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.