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 Antigua and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum 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 The Pretty Things to the grunge 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Skaos,
Roxette,
X-101,
Oneida,
Hashim,
Arcadia,
Pet Shop Boys,
Average White Band,
Rapeman,
Joe Smooth,
Panda Bear,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Misunderstood,
Kenny Larkin,
Scientists,
Donny Hathaway,
Slick Rick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heaven 17,
Todd Terry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Janne Schatter,
Joyce Sims,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Desert Stars,
Angry Samoans,
R.M.O.,
Babytalk,
Jerry's Kids,
Skriet,
Simply Red,
Swell Maps,
Cluster,
Reagan Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Visage,
Neu!,
Joe Finger,
Television Personalities,
Pole,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flash Fearless,
Jandek,
Scrapy,
ABBA,
Neil Young,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pere Ubu,
Aswad,
Radiopuhelimet,
Q65,
The Young Rascals,
The Moody Blues,
Ronnie Foster,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roy Ayers,
Bootsy Collins,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.