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 Paris.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
The Fire Engines,
Youth Brigade,
Byron Stingily,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mr. Review,
DJ Sneak,
U.S. Maple,
The Busters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hashim,
The Victims,
Soulsonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Almond,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Human League,
Accadde A,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pagans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tommy Roe,
Davy DMX,
Dennis Brown,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Neon Judgement,
Isaac Hayes,
Eddi Front,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Barracudas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Carl Craig,
Goldenarms,
Television Personalities,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
LL Cool J,
The Kinks,
Tim Buckley,
Sonic Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tom Boy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Copeland,
Laurel Aitken,
Maleditus Sound,
Magma,
H. Thieme,
Royal Trux,
Nico,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fugs,
Interpol,
the Association,
Zero Boys,
Sun Ra,
China Crisis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
OOIOO,
Lungfish,
Dark Day,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.