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 Mongolia and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 kango's stein massive to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
Wings,
Deakin,
Loose Ends,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
Joey Negro,
F. McDonald,
Outsiders,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arthur Verocai,
The Smiths,
Blossom Toes,
Buzzcocks,
June Days,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skaos,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Juan Atkins,
The Pop Group,
Lebanon Hanover,
Morten Harket,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Star Department,
Kayak,
Robert Görl,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cameo,
EPMD,
E-Dancer,
K-Klass,
Man Eating Sloth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Saccharine Trust,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suburban Knight,
The Seeds,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Gap Band,
Neil Young,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fela Kuti,
Little Man,
Cybotron,
Sonny Sharrock,
Radio Birdman,
Eddi Front,
Gang of Four,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Leonard Cohen,
Lindisfarne,
Black Sheep,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Wells,
the Association,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.