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 Canada and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Television Personalities to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Vainqueur,
The Smoke,
Sugar Minott,
Gong,
Lindisfarne,
Michelle Simonal,
Aloha Tigers,
Tubeway Army,
DNA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Simply Red,
Suicide,
Tim Buckley,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
E-Dancer,
Mark Hollis,
Heaven 17,
Al Stewart,
Dead Boys,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Swans,
Pole,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bill Near,
Isaac Hayes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reuben Wilson,
Unrelated Segments,
K-Klass,
The Moody Blues,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
Los Fastidios,
ABC,
Porter Ricks,
Infiniti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Youth Brigade,
Sam Rivers,
Pierre Henry,
U.S. Maple,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eli Mardock,
R.M.O.,
Mo-Dettes,
The Index,
Loose Ends,
Severed Heads,
The Blackbyrds,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare,
Brothers Johnson,
The Pop Group,
Symarip,
Lightning Bolt,
Das Ding,
Suburban Knight,
Bootsy Collins,
Yazoo,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.