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 Switzerland and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 R.M.O. to the grime 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sound,
Monks,
Joe Smooth,
ABC,
The Mojo Men,
Henry Cow,
Mandrill,
Pantaleimon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cameo,
The Five Americans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Hood,
Minutemen,
Funky Four + One,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lightning Bolt,
Neu!,
Isaac Hayes,
Andrew Hill,
Little Man,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Coltrane,
Gang Green,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dave Gahan,
Stereo Dub,
Gang Starr,
Flash Fearless,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Unrelated Segments,
Maleditus Sound,
Unwound,
Gabor Szabo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alison Limerick,
Urselle,
The Birthday Party,
Albert Ayler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
8 Eyed Spy,
R.M.O.,
Buzzcocks,
Ornette Coleman,
Max Romeo,
David Bowie,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Faust,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Walker Brothers,
Hardrive,
The Kinks,
Eurythmics,
Deadbeat,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.