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 Croatia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Monochrome Set to the techno 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '70s 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 Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Whodini,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wire,
Blossom Toes,
The Litter,
The Fugs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dark Day,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
The Modern Lovers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultra Naté,
Kurtis Blow,
The Angels of Light,
Boredoms,
Deakin,
Radiohead,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Selecter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Schoolly D,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Associates,
Rosa Yemen,
Scott Walker,
Con Funk Shun,
Wolf Eyes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pet Shop Boys,
New Age Steppers,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Christie,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Raincoats,
MC5,
Stockholm Monsters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Blues Magoos,
Steve Hackett,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cramps,
This Heat,
Drexciya,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Axelrod,
Parry Music,
Kenny Larkin,
Mo-Dettes,
The Kinks,
Wasted Youth,
Jawbox,
The Neon Judgement,
Bill Wells,
Marc Almond,
Aloha Tigers,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.