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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Doors to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Marmalade,
Black Flag,
Black Bananas,
Silicon Teens,
KRS-One,
Goldenarms,
Mandrill,
Man Parrish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lalann,
Young Marble Giants,
Rhythm & Sound,
Little Man,
The Real Kids,
Excepter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Womack,
Derrick Morgan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eden Ahbez,
Loose Ends,
Faraquet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scion,
The Gun Club,
Stockholm Monsters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New Age Steppers,
Black Sheep,
Eric Copeland,
Zero Boys,
Skaos,
Letta Mbulu,
The Moleskins,
Bootsy Collins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mission of Burma,
The J.B.'s,
L. Decosne,
Faust,
T.S.O.L.,
Skriet,
Talk Talk,
Piero Umiliani,
Bill Wells,
the Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Beau Brummels,
Donny Hathaway,
Brothers Johnson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Swans,
Basic Channel,
Television Personalities,
DJ Style,
Mars,
Bobby Byrd,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.