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 Brunei and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fire Engines to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
The Count Five,
Gang Starr,
Animal Collective,
Heaven 17,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cramps,
Au Pairs,
Panda Bear,
Qualms,
Accadde A,
Technova,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Clarke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marshall Jefferson,
EPMD,
Sound Behaviour,
Flipper,
Minor Threat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Offenders,
Soul II Soul,
Scratch Acid,
The Trojans,
Vainqueur,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-102,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rotary Connection,
Excepter,
Nirvana,
Pylon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skaos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Swans,
Neu!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dawn Penn,
The Techniques,
The Raincoats,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Byrd,
Fluxion,
OOIOO,
The Evens,
Scientists,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minny Pops,
Howard Jones,
Brand Nubian,
Gregory Isaacs,
Magazine,
The Music Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Television Personalities,
Can,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Prince Buster,
Inner City,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.