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 Mexico and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 U.S. Maple to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Maleditus Sound,
Boredoms,
B.T. Express,
Arab on Radar,
Traffic Nightmare,
Altered Images,
Rod Modell,
Nils Olav,
Skriet,
Audionom,
Ken Boothe,
Japan,
Half Japanese,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
L. Decosne,
The Alarm Clocks,
DNA,
JFA,
Outsiders,
Ronan,
The Sound,
Au Pairs,
Soft Machine,
Sun Ra,
Wally Richardson,
Bill Wells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Angry Samoans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alison Limerick,
Sandy B,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Litter,
Camberwell Now,
Oblivians,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Pop Group,
Nas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soulsonic Force,
Bad Manners,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Womack,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bauhaus,
Television,
Ossler,
Sarah Menescal,
Todd Terry,
The Mummies,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rapeman,
Joey Negro,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeff Lynne,
Arthur Verocai,
Electric Light Orchestra,
World's Most,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Doors,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.