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 Kiribati and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mojo Men to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Alarm Clocks,
48th St. Collective,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boz Scaggs,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang of Four,
Ultravox,
The Beau Brummels,
Fatback Band,
Suburban Knight,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sun Ra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minutemen,
Eric Copeland,
Grauzone,
Excepter,
Cymande,
The Residents,
Icehouse,
Glenn Branca,
The Offenders,
Marvin Gaye,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Velvet Underground,
Urselle,
Monolake,
Nas,
Jacques Brel,
The Gladiators,
Eddi Front,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-101,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Agitation Free,
Q65,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick May,
Roxette,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Half Japanese,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Delon & Dalcan,
Skarface,
The Sound,
The Martian,
The Last Poets,
Reuben Wilson,
Erykah Badu,
Toni Rubio,
Deadbeat,
Rod Modell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bad Manners,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.