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 Ecuador and from Delhi.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 X-Ray Spex to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
James White and The Blacks,
the Human League,
Gerry Rafferty,
Panda Bear,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kaleidoscope,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The United States of America,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joey Negro,
Thompson Twins,
Zero Boys,
Josef K,
UT,
The Fuzztones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joyce Sims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Howard Jones,
Lou Christie,
Crispian St. Peters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hoover,
The Slits,
Lower 48,
Junior Murvin,
the Bar-Kays,
Sällskapet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joy Division,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lungfish,
Angry Samoans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Toasters,
Scrapy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Second Layer,
Fugazi,
Tom Boy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Motions,
The Walker Brothers,
Bluetip,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Negative Approach,
Blake Baxter,
The Birthday Party,
The Angels of Light,
Cymande,
Index,
Boredoms,
Barbara Tucker,
Half Japanese,
The Cowsills,
Metal Thangz,
Jandek,
Rufus Thomas,
Reagan Youth,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.