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 Ethiopia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 The Remains to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Gong,
Ronnie Foster,
Curtis Mayfield,
Patti Smith,
Pussy Galore,
Stetsasonic,
Alton Ellis,
Eric Copeland,
Massinfluence,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Music Machine,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lyres,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lightning Bolt,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Byrd,
Minnie Riperton,
Sam Rivers,
Skaos,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jerry's Kids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sonic Youth,
the Slits,
Terry Callier,
Mark Hollis,
The Cure,
Derrick Morgan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
T.S.O.L.,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kenny Larkin,
Bush Tetras,
The J.B.'s,
Rekid,
John Coltrane,
Crash Course in Science,
The Busters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Agent Orange,
June Days,
World's Most,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flash Fearless,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Icehouse,
The Smoke,
Radiohead,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Barracudas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Piero Umiliani,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.