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 Cuba and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes 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 Eurythmics to the grime 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Wake,
Von Mondo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Swell Maps,
Boredoms,
Icehouse,
Funky Four + One,
Silicon Teens,
The Fall,
Fugazi,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Trojans,
The Black Dice,
Faraquet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ludus,
Marc Almond,
Fatback Band,
The Doors,
Schoolly D,
Subhumans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Tears for Fears,
Qualms,
Harry Pussy,
The Fuzztones,
Popol Vuh,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Interpol,
Kerri Chandler,
Chrome,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
R.M.O.,
The Dirtbombs,
The Barracudas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bootsy Collins,
Con Funk Shun,
Spandau Ballet,
Wire,
Gang Green,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roxy Music,
The Vogues,
The Cosmic Jokers,
T.S.O.L.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Mummies,
Black Bananas,
Dead Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Quantec,
Max Romeo,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.