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 Afghanistan and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kaleidoscope to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Shuggie Otis,
Jawbox,
Visage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Junior Murvin,
Aswad,
The Dead C,
Colin Newman,
AZ,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeff Mills,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cecil Taylor,
Monolake,
Graham Central Station,
John Foxx,
Fat Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Accadde A,
The Raincoats,
Flamin' Groovies,
Faraquet,
Ten City,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barry Ungar,
Black Pus,
Swans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Underground Resistance,
Minny Pops,
The Walker Brothers,
Boredoms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Moebius,
Yaz,
Eli Mardock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masters at Work,
Black Moon,
Sixth Finger,
Bronski Beat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Angels of Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Black Dice,
Grauzone,
The Tremeloes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Sherman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unrelated Segments,
Motorama,
8 Eyed Spy,
Skriet,
Piero Umiliani,
The Searchers,
The Martian,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang Starr,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.