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 Eritrea and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Swell Maps to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soft Cell,
Mandrill,
Soft Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yellowson,
Massinfluence,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thee Headcoats,
John Lydon,
Lyres,
Suicide,
L. Decosne,
Sonny Sharrock,
June Days,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Saints,
Rites of Spring,
Terry Callier,
Mission of Burma,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mighty Diamonds,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sällskapet,
Gang of Four,
Sam Rivers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bob Dylan,
Oneida,
Brand Nubian,
Drexciya,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultravox,
The Music Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
X-Ray Spex,
Tears for Fears,
The Raincoats,
X-102,
EPMD,
Joe Smooth,
Moby Grape,
Amazonics,
Al Stewart,
Jesper Dahlback,
Zero Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Lucky Dragons,
Rosa Yemen,
The Moody Blues,
Pantytec,
The Fortunes,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Victims,
Marc Almond,
Ronan,
Panda Bear,
Skriet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Country Teasers,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.