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 Turkmenistan and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Happenings to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brass Construction,
Khruangbin,
Fat Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Moss Icon,
Stetsasonic,
Blake Baxter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Scion,
Scott Walker,
Unrelated Segments,
Sex Pistols,
Matthew Halsall,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Toasters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DNA,
Terry Callier,
Ronnie Foster,
Archie Shepp,
The Selecter,
Circle Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric Dolphy,
Wasted Youth,
Faraquet,
The Smiths,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nick Fraelich,
Magma,
Main Source,
Sparks,
The Martian,
Wire,
Gichy Dan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Public Enemy,
kango's stein massive,
Y Pants,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hot Snakes,
Moby Grape,
R.M.O.,
Harry Pussy,
Stiv Bators,
Severed Heads,
Godley & Creme,
Black Moon,
Ohio Players,
Althea and Donna,
The Grass Roots,
Make Up,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rakim,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.