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 Barbados and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
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 rhodes 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 Faraquet to the crunk 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Surgeon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Amon Düül,
Inner City,
Sparks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Basic Channel,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
The Fall,
The Grass Roots,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nils Olav,
La Düsseldorf,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hardrive,
Eric Dolphy,
Magazine,
The Busters,
Television,
The Fuzztones,
Fela Kuti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Metal Thangz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nik Kershaw,
Clear Light,
Can,
Ossler,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cal Tjader,
Al Stewart,
Joyce Sims,
Qualms,
Bill Wells,
Ituana,
Mo-Dettes,
Prince Buster,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Bananas,
Niagra,
Banda Bassotti,
F. McDonald,
The Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Animal Collective,
Masters at Work,
Bang On A Can,
Zapp,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Freddie Wadling,
Au Pairs,
MC5,
Suburban Knight,
The Divine Comedy,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.