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 Libya and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sound Behaviour to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Rufus Thomas,
Second Layer,
Black Pus,
Hoover,
Brand Nubian,
Slick Rick,
Funky Four + One,
Mr. Review,
The Fire Engines,
Von Mondo,
D'Angelo,
Royal Trux,
Panda Bear,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scan 7,
The Angels of Light,
The Real Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cameo,
Echospace,
Theoretical Girls,
Boredoms,
Roxy Music,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lou Reed,
Rekid,
Fat Boys,
Byron Stingily,
John Cale,
Idris Muhammad,
Grey Daturas,
The Durutti Column,
Agitation Free,
Fad Gadget,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Human League,
The Searchers,
The Martian,
Crash Course in Science,
Procol Harum,
The Associates,
The Offenders,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T.S.O.L.,
The New Christs,
Los Fastidios,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lindisfarne,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Misunderstood,
Howard Jones,
Lyres,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.