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 Nicaragua and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Remains,
8 Eyed Spy,
Quadrant,
MDC,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Audionom,
Main Source,
Wire,
Black Moon,
Barrington Levy,
The Black Dice,
The Last Poets,
Smog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
AZ,
John Lydon,
Swans,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Bananas,
Ludus,
Skarface,
Metal Thangz,
Wolf Eyes,
Silicon Teens,
Juan Atkins,
Negative Approach,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marc Almond,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lucky Dragons,
Underground Resistance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cure,
Jerry's Kids,
Mo-Dettes,
Joyce Sims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Circle Jerks,
Leonard Cohen,
Wasted Youth,
Danielle Patucci,
The Tremeloes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Susan Cadogan,
Parry Music,
Popol Vuh,
Ossler,
John Coltrane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Au Pairs,
Soft Cell,
Grauzone,
The Smiths,
H. Thieme,
Cal Tjader,
Josef K,
K-Klass,
Ponytail,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.