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 Kosovo and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Arthur Verocai 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro 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?
Moby Grape,
Royal Trux,
La Düsseldorf,
Alice Coltrane,
Malaria!,
Neil Young,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Byrd,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Associates,
Davy DMX,
Parry Music,
The Litter,
The Fortunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Easy Going,
Flipper,
Andrew Hill,
Amazonics,
Second Layer,
Althea and Donna,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slick Rick,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pet Shop Boys,
Faraquet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Subhumans,
The Grass Roots,
Lyres,
Joy Division,
Procol Harum,
Nick Fraelich,
T. Rex,
T.S.O.L.,
Gabor Szabo,
Barbara Tucker,
Stetsasonic,
the Swans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Trojans,
Black Pus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultravox,
The New Christs,
Icehouse,
The Fugs,
The Remains,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Byron Stingily,
Eurythmics,
Boredoms,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Offenders,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The United States of America,
Piero Umiliani,
Altered Images,
Jacques Brel,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.