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 Bolivia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Radiohead to the techno 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Eve St. Jones,
the Association,
Gang of Four,
Letta Mbulu,
D'Angelo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Schoolly D,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soft Machine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Colin Newman,
Kurtis Blow,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Shoche,
Suburban Knight,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers,
Gabor Szabo,
UT,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Sherman,
The Neon Judgement,
The Vogues,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Walker Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
Bush Tetras,
Sam Rivers,
Vainqueur,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Juan Atkins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Simply Red,
Average White Band,
PIL,
Junior Murvin,
Derrick Morgan,
Eurythmics,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
Nirvana,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Cell,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scion,
Cybotron,
Franke,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fatback Band,
Steve Hackett,
Monolake,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tomorrow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
These Immortal Souls,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.