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 Kosovo and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Underground Resistance,
Duran Duran,
One Last Wish,
Jacob Miller,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hoover,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cheater Slicks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Von Mondo,
Vainqueur,
Suicide,
The Young Rascals,
Shoche,
The Barracudas,
Mars,
The Misunderstood,
The Grass Roots,
Marc Almond,
Scratch Acid,
Dennis Brown,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smoke,
The Black Dice,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Judy Mowatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ice-T,
Matthew Bourne,
The Leaves,
Schoolly D,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Interpol,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rod Modell,
Eurythmics,
Idris Muhammad,
Ludus,
Joyce Sims,
Bob Dylan,
Lower 48,
Lungfish,
Michelle Simonal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Goldenarms,
Delta 5,
Rotary Connection,
Banda Bassotti,
The Real Kids,
Sun City Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Warren Ellis,
8 Eyed Spy,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Aural Exciters,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.