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 Grenada and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Johnny Clarke to the electroclash 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Connie Case,
Junior Murvin,
The Victims,
The Durutti Column,
Popol Vuh,
the Slits,
Slick Rick,
T.S.O.L.,
Freddie Wadling,
Crispian St. Peters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Circle Jerks,
Scientists,
Jerry's Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
Alphaville,
Black Moon,
Chrome,
Ohio Players,
Quando Quango,
Black Pus,
World's Most,
The Offenders,
Roxette,
AZ,
Little Man,
Magazine,
Electric Prunes,
Hardrive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Parry Music,
Scan 7,
In Retrospect,
The J.B.'s,
Rapeman,
Technova,
The Knickerbockers,
Funkadelic,
Rakim,
Skriet,
Outsiders,
Simply Red,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tubeway Army,
The Slits,
Duran Duran,
The Fortunes,
The Gories,
The Blackbyrds,
Skarface,
Yusef Lateef,
Minor Threat,
The Martian,
JFA,
Joe Smooth,
Altered Images,
Crash Course in Science,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Andrew Hill,
Audionom,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.