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 Paraguay and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Parry Music to the rock 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Desert Stars,
Dave Gahan,
Khruangbin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fuzztones,
Fear,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Patti Smith,
The Cure,
The Pretty Things,
Roxette,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eurythmics,
Delta 5,
Pole,
Angry Samoans,
Prince Buster,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Pus,
The Alarm Clocks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sandy B,
Thompson Twins,
Tom Boy,
Sixth Finger,
Tim Buckley,
John Coltrane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stockholm Monsters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Smog,
Henry Cow,
Sight & Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
Godley & Creme,
Excepter,
Country Teasers,
MC5,
Negative Approach,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ponytail,
Buzzcocks,
Brand Nubian,
Alton Ellis,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Hill,
The Wake,
UT,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Saints,
The Dirtbombs,
Sällskapet,
Bill Wells,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Offenders,
The Victims,
Ituana,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.