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 Iraq and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eden Ahbez to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Television Personalities,
Aaron Thompson,
Parry Music,
Negative Approach,
The Durutti Column,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scratch Acid,
Icehouse,
Desert Stars,
Pussy Galore,
Harpers Bizarre,
Banda Bassotti,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Harmonia,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
Sun Ra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Section 25,
The Vogues,
The Seeds,
Interpol,
Yusef Lateef,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dirtbombs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Essential Logic,
Mandrill,
JFA,
Hardrive,
Silicon Teens,
Underground Resistance,
Supertramp,
The Zeros,
Fat Boys,
Organ,
The Residents,
H. Thieme,
CMW,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Human League,
Fad Gadget,
Pere Ubu,
Yaz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Infiniti,
The Buckinghams,
the Slits,
Saccharine Trust,
Peter and Kerry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Camouflage,
Groovy Waters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Loose Ends,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.