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 Uruguay and from Beijing.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cybotron 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Trumans Water,
Mary Jane Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Lyres,
The Leaves,
Television,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-102,
The Moody Blues,
Shuggie Otis,
Underground Resistance,
Motorama,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Invisible,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pierre Henry,
The Divine Comedy,
Ludus,
The Black Dice,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Urselle,
Hot Snakes,
Hasil Adkins,
Lakeside,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantytec,
Don Cherry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eurythmics,
Youth Brigade,
Isaac Hayes,
The Toasters,
X-101,
Funkadelic,
Das Ding,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vladislav Delay,
Reuben Wilson,
Con Funk Shun,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
E-Dancer,
The Happenings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pylon,
Circle Jerks,
Deakin,
The Cure,
Public Enemy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Graham Central Station,
John Cale,
The Barracudas,
Barbara Tucker,
Heaven 17,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Babytalk,
The Victims,
Talk Talk,
The Slits,
The Residents,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.