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 Sudan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the jazz 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rekid,
Deepchord,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Byrd,
Urselle,
Black Moon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brick,
Main Source,
Rapeman,
Eddi Front,
Infiniti,
Hoover,
The Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
Unrelated Segments,
Tom Boy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harry Pussy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mantronix,
Quadrant,
Freddie Wadling,
Animal Collective,
Steve Hackett,
Bush Tetras,
The Slackers,
Crooked Eye,
Surgeon,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Eric Copeland,
Mission of Burma,
La Düsseldorf,
Swell Maps,
Livin' Joy,
the Swans,
Janne Schatter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Echospace,
Marcia Griffiths,
Donny Hathaway,
Soft Cell,
Charles Mingus,
Barry Ungar,
EPMD,
Mad Mike,
Black Flag,
Au Pairs,
Slave,
Pagans,
CMW,
Avey Tare,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cramps,
Adolescents,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.