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 Suriname and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 Janne Schatter to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Alice Coltrane,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Moody Blues,
Mary Jane Girls,
Severed Heads,
The Fall,
Arcadia,
Scratch Acid,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Visage,
The Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Moleskins,
Pagans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mark Hollis,
Make Up,
Rites of Spring,
The Black Dice,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Byrd,
Donald Byrd,
Davy DMX,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marmalade,
Minutemen,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Sherman,
Hasil Adkins,
Symarip,
The Alarm Clocks,
Laurel Aitken,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hoover,
Siglo XX,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ohio Players,
Roxy Music,
the Sonics,
Accadde A,
Kurtis Blow,
June Days,
Bauhaus,
Harry Pussy,
Eddi Front,
Underground Resistance,
Lungfish,
The Remains,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sun City Girls,
Max Romeo,
Ituana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Outsiders,
MDC,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Neil Young,
Derrick Morgan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wings,
Model 500,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.