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 Mongolia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
R.M.O.,
The Names,
Unrelated Segments,
Grandmaster Flash,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Boogie Down Productions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
ABC,
Frankie Knuckles,
Los Fastidios,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Technova,
Kas Product,
Sex Pistols,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lucky Dragons,
The Five Americans,
the Association,
John Lydon,
Nico,
Robert Görl,
Eve St. Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Faraquet,
Quadrant,
Porter Ricks,
Dead Boys,
Livin' Joy,
The Electric Prunes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Green,
Jandek,
The Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Audionom,
Das Ding,
Basic Channel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aswad,
Jacques Brel,
The Doors,
Minny Pops,
OOIOO,
ABBA,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Reed,
Donald Byrd,
Juan Atkins,
Popol Vuh,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Golliwogs,
Khruangbin,
The Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Bauhaus,
Lungfish,
Desert Stars,
The American Breed,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.