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 South Africa and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bush Tetras,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
Stetsasonic,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
Blossom Toes,
Chris & Cosey,
Junior Murvin,
David Axelrod,
Ludus,
the Sonics,
Silicon Teens,
the Germs,
Talk Talk,
Slick Rick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
New York Dolls,
Symarip,
Hoover,
Man Parrish,
These Immortal Souls,
Babytalk,
Shuggie Otis,
Neil Young,
Brick,
the Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Saints,
Essential Logic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marshall Jefferson,
Audionom,
Urselle,
Duran Duran,
Cybotron,
Trumans Water,
The Standells,
Flash Fearless,
Desert Stars,
kango's stein massive,
Todd Rundgren,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Colin Newman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Liliput,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
H. Thieme,
Outsiders,
The Invisible,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fatback Band,
Joey Negro,
Radio Birdman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barclay James Harvest,
a-ha,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.