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 Antigua and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sandy B 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Bill Near,
Joy Division,
Unrelated Segments,
Jerry's Kids,
World's Most,
Metal Thangz,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Index,
The Smoke,
E-Dancer,
Althea and Donna,
The Slackers,
Nico,
The Star Department,
Babytalk,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wings,
The Skatalites,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Stooges,
The Sound,
In Retrospect,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-Ray Spex,
Simply Red,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Index,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pantytec,
Gang of Four,
Guru Guru,
The Vogues,
the Fania All-Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tom Boy,
Man Parrish,
Qualms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Excepter,
X-102,
Vainqueur,
Tubeway Army,
Nick Fraelich,
Dark Day,
The Electric Prunes,
Agent Orange,
the Bar-Kays,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Model 500,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.