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 Argentina and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord 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 Sexual Harrassment to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Slackers,
The Kinks,
Heaven 17,
Hardrive,
Faust,
The Residents,
Urselle,
Tres Demented,
These Immortal Souls,
X-101,
Andrew Hill,
Excepter,
U.S. Maple,
Crooked Eye,
The Gap Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Tim Buckley,
Howard Jones,
Television Personalities,
Jandek,
Alphaville,
Soul Sonic Force,
The United States of America,
Grauzone,
Ronnie Foster,
The Black Dice,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lou Reed,
Make Up,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stereo Dub,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lower 48,
Todd Terry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skriet,
Porter Ricks,
Sex Pistols,
Khruangbin,
June of 44,
Glenn Branca,
Faraquet,
The Angels of Light,
Model 500,
Main Source,
Minny Pops,
Soulsonic Force,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nils Olav,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Judy Mowatt,
Livin' Joy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Parry Music,
Niagra,
Lungfish,
Al Stewart,
Saccharine Trust,
Cameo,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.