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 Equatorial Guinea and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joy Division to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Cal Tjader,
Robert Wyatt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Martian,
The Remains,
Rod Modell,
The Last Poets,
The Vogues,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
Prince Buster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Suicide,
John Cale,
Pylon,
Fluxion,
The Invisible,
Joy Division,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultimate Spinach,
Severed Heads,
Whodini,
Joe Finger,
Traffic Nightmare,
Smog,
The Birthday Party,
Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Malaria!,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gladiators,
The Misunderstood,
Interpol,
The Names,
Average White Band,
Max Romeo,
Aural Exciters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Babytalk,
Urselle,
Archie Shepp,
Liliput,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Techniques,
Dorothy Ashby,
MC5,
Gang Starr,
Massinfluence,
Crispian St. Peters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Juan Atkins,
Toni Rubio,
The Move,
Joey Negro,
Gong,
The Cramps,
Danielle Patucci,
Underground Resistance,
Delon & Dalcan,
New York Dolls,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.