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 Montenegro and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cybotron to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Harry Pussy,
Siglo XX,
The Residents,
The Smoke,
Half Japanese,
Adolescents,
Second Layer,
X-102,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Gang Dance,
David McCallum,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Con Funk Shun,
Eden Ahbez,
Suicide,
Arcadia,
Roger Hodgson,
Minny Pops,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ten City,
Kerri Chandler,
The Selecter,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bill Wells,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxette,
The Standells,
CMW,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kaleidoscope,
Kenny Larkin,
Flash Fearless,
Scion,
Jacques Brel,
Wolf Eyes,
Mars,
Radiohead,
David Bowie,
The Durutti Column,
Sound Behaviour,
Rekid,
Talk Talk,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
KRS-One,
Dead Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
ABBA,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Amon Düül,
The Seeds,
The Gun Club,
The Dead C,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quantec,
Organ,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.