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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Bill Wells to the jazz 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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Average White Band,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gladiators,
Harpers Bizarre,
Buzzcocks,
Matthew Bourne,
Ken Boothe,
The Black Dice,
Roxy Music,
Scan 7,
Archie Shepp,
Deakin,
Nas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Sheep,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Patti Smith,
Public Enemy,
The Techniques,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Darondo,
Mr. Review,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soft Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Monolake,
Steve Hackett,
Fad Gadget,
Visage,
Guru Guru,
Talk Talk,
John Lydon,
Toni Rubio,
The American Breed,
Hashim,
Pulsallama,
Animal Collective,
The Associates,
Fat Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yaz,
The Divine Comedy,
The Index,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
FM Einheit,
The Litter,
Television Personalities,
Robert Görl,
The Invisible,
K-Klass,
Pantytec,
Organ,
The Moody Blues,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Reed,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Erasure,
The Cowsills,
The Motions,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.