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 Korea South and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Chris Corsano to the dance 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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Interpol,
Underground Resistance,
Eli Mardock,
Hoover,
Wire,
Echospace,
Subhumans,
LL Cool J,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skaos,
The Walker Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Piero Umiliani,
Barry Ungar,
Vladislav Delay,
Rekid,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
FM Einheit,
Suicide,
Lou Reed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mr. Review,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Q and Not U,
Derrick May,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tomorrow,
Gang Green,
UT,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Surgeon,
Sandy B,
Radio Birdman,
The Cure,
Fugazi,
Shuggie Otis,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Rundgren,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Qualms,
F. McDonald,
Swell Maps,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Danielle Patucci,
Pantytec,
Donald Byrd,
Ultravox,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Hood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.