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 Kyrgyzstan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tears for Fears to the disco 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Grey Daturas,
Magazine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aaron Thompson,
The Slackers,
Darondo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fortunes,
Stetsasonic,
Simply Red,
Con Funk Shun,
Cymande,
kango's stein massive,
The Five Americans,
Whodini,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gladiators,
Reagan Youth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Spandau Ballet,
Bob Dylan,
Laurel Aitken,
The Knickerbockers,
Hashim,
The Durutti Column,
Yellowson,
Mark Hollis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mad Mike,
Colin Newman,
The New Christs,
New Order,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scan 7,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Von Mondo,
Danielle Patucci,
Nils Olav,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Bar-Kays,
Judy Mowatt,
Nick Fraelich,
John Foxx,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Real Kids,
OOIOO,
Pagans,
Flipper,
Gichy Dan,
Joe Smooth,
L. Decosne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultravox,
The Cramps,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move,
Fluxion,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.