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 Kyrgyzstan and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin 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 Black Moon to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Qualms,
Piero Umiliani,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grauzone,
Livin' Joy,
The Moody Blues,
Amon Düül II,
Nirvana,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brothers Johnson,
Unwound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pole,
K-Klass,
Spoonie Gee,
Davy DMX,
Brass Construction,
Todd Terry,
EPMD,
Janne Schatter,
Altered Images,
The Dead C,
Derrick Morgan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rakim,
U.S. Maple,
Tubeway Army,
Bob Dylan,
B.T. Express,
The Black Dice,
The J.B.'s,
Andrew Hill,
Derrick May,
Can,
New York Dolls,
a-ha,
Kerri Chandler,
Lungfish,
The Red Krayola,
Graham Central Station,
Girls At Our Best!,
Man Parrish,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Almond,
The Wake,
The Music Machine,
Los Fastidios,
The Neon Judgement,
Hashim,
The Victims,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Underground Resistance,
The Slits,
The Mummies,
Fat Boys,
Essential Logic,
Kas Product,
Nico,
Moebius,
Colin Newman,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.