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 Belarus and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cheater Slicks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Los Fastidios,
Nick Fraelich,
Make Up,
Crime,
Minutemen,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harmonia,
Slave,
Marvin Gaye,
Audionom,
Organ,
Fluxion,
Gang of Four,
Arab on Radar,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Happenings,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultra Naté,
Warsaw,
Motorama,
Saccharine Trust,
Skriet,
Mantronix,
Patti Smith,
Accadde A,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
The Litter,
Babytalk,
Steve Hackett,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Surgeon,
Ultravox,
Eric Dolphy,
The Velvet Underground,
Q65,
Eve St. Jones,
Grauzone,
Simply Red,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Little Man,
Ice-T,
Stetsasonic,
Dave Gahan,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
X-101,
Index,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Beau Brummels,
Arthur Verocai,
Stiv Bators,
Chris & Cosey,
Bizarre Inc.,
Leonard Cohen,
Danielle Patucci,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.