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 Kiribati and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 The Stooges to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Rekid,
Eurythmics,
Barrington Levy,
Man Eating Sloth,
T. Rex,
Kevin Saunderson,
Interpol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dark Day,
Erasure,
The Smoke,
Porter Ricks,
Eddi Front,
Mad Mike,
U.S. Maple,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Al Stewart,
The Black Dice,
AZ,
Amon Düül II,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Animal Collective,
Scion,
Tommy Roe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Barracudas,
Kerri Chandler,
The Doobie Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Q and Not U,
The Standells,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soft Machine,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Man Parrish,
Dawn Penn,
The Pretty Things,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Selecter,
Delta 5,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Red Krayola,
Harmonia,
Joensuu 1685,
Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fugs,
Peter and Kerry,
Funkadelic,
Cymande,
Dennis Brown,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rosa Yemen,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.