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 Morocco and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Swans to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Smog,
The Fortunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Birthday Party,
Don Cherry,
Scott Walker,
Andrew Hill,
Zapp,
Anakelly,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Pus,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Womack,
Crooked Eye,
Make Up,
Jesper Dahlback,
Niagra,
Yusef Lateef,
Danielle Patucci,
The American Breed,
Gang Starr,
Babytalk,
Von Mondo,
Peter & Gordon,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sister Nancy,
X-102,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Reed,
Wally Richardson,
Technova,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Massinfluence,
the Human League,
John Coltrane,
The Vogues,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Index,
Sun City Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
World's Most,
Bauhaus,
Terry Callier,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grey Daturas,
Kurtis Blow,
Mantronix,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare,
Warsaw,
Cymande,
Flamin' Groovies,
Clear Light,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Victims,
The Modern Lovers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Q and Not U,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.