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 Philippines and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eli Mardock to the dance 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Severed Heads,
Ituana,
The Raincoats,
Ornette Coleman,
Dual Sessions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Red Krayola,
Darondo,
Amon Düül,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mark Hollis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lungfish,
Theoretical Girls,
Unwound,
Groovy Waters,
Porter Ricks,
Eurythmics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Camouflage,
The Busters,
Pole,
The Fall,
The Mummies,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lucky Dragons,
The Zeros,
Sparks,
Pussy Galore,
Ossler,
The J.B.'s,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Byrd,
The Golliwogs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Buzzcocks,
Tomorrow,
Derrick May,
Icehouse,
Talk Talk,
Anakelly,
Tommy Roe,
Sister Nancy,
Whodini,
Lyres,
Japan,
Babytalk,
Pere Ubu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Organ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Interpol,
Qualms,
Khruangbin,
The Last Poets,
Little Man,
The Index,
Jeff Mills,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.